Something Unexpected
by snappie
Summary: When Hermione leaves Hogwarts for University, she is set to sample college life. This is quickly quashed when she finds a certain Mr. Malfoy is on campus. And that's not all - his room is just next door!
1. Default Chapter

                Hermione stared disconsolately out of the window.  "Bloody rain again! Always bloody rain in England!", she thought to herself.  The parting with her parents had been hard.  Then there was the parting with Harry and Ron.  Harry had chosen not to go onto university.  Instead, he had chosen, or rather been chosen for a high-power career in the ministry of magic.  Ron was going to a French university.  Hermione sighed and tried to cheer herself up by reminding herself that she was, after all, going to one of the most prestigious wizardry and witchcraft universities in England.  Hermione stepped off the train and breathed in the air around her.  She found a luggage trolley and wrestled her trunks onto it.  She looked around her warily.  She was on her own now.  She signalled for a carriage and got in.

"Ampersands University, please," she commanded

"That'll be seven sickles then," a voice replied.

The carriage took off with a jolt and Hermione found herself slowly drifting off to sleep.  The interior of the carriage was decorated with red and purple silk and there were little twinkling stars on the ceiling.  

"Your stop," a voice declared and deposited her onto winding trail up into the mountains.  "The University's just up the trail behind the mountains."

"But.......How am I supposed to get up there?" Hermione faltered.

"Well, use yer head!" the driver replied.  "Seven sickles please!"

Hermione paid him and wondered what to do.  She looked about her, the place was beautiful.  Fir trees lined the path on either side and she could just see, in the distance a mountain stream trickling down.

_"Levitatus"_, she said to her luggage.  Then, mounting her broom, she flew over the mountain crest and saw a beautiful castle rise up in front of her.  She touched down and brushed the rain out of her eyes.  She straightened her robes and took in a long, nervous breath.

"Damn!" she cursed herself inwardly.  No one was wearing robes at all!  She left her luggage and went behind a tree, almost tripping over an entwined couple in the long grass.  

_"Cambius,"_ she muttered and pointed her wand at her robes.  That was better, she was now dressed in a long denim skirt and a black t-shirt.  She meandered slowly back to her waiting luggage and took her map out from her pocket.  She needed to register for classes.  She sighed and sat on a bench, wondering what to choose.  She realised it was no longer raining.

******

                Draco was annoyed.  In fact, that was incorrect, he was _more_ than annoyed.  Some idiot had put him into the Girls' dormitories under the name Draca Malfoy.  Unfortunately for Draco, there were no spare rooms and he would have to stay there.  He smirked to himself, suddenly thinking of all the girls he could attempt to get into his bed that term.

                He was dressed in black trousers, a black shirt and he had on a very expensive pair of Oakleys sunglasses.  His shoes were polished impeccably and his silver blond hair now fashionably cut into a short, choppy style.  He narrowed his eyes against the sun and spotted an exeptionally pretty girl sitting not far away on a bench.  She swung her legs back and forth and looked at the sky.  

"Plenty of time, Draco," a voice in his head reminded him, "first you must sign up for your classes."

With that, he turn on his heel, sending the gravel skidding in every direction and strode into the building.

******

                Hermione strolled to the registering office.  She knew already this year she was to be in Luciva Hall, and she was looking forward to meeting all the new people.  She got in line to register her subjects and, magically, a quill and a piece of parchment appeared in her hands.  She stuided the parchment, it appeared to be a form to fill out what lessons she wanted to take.  She checked a box next to Arithmancy, and sucked on her quill whilst she thought of what else to do.  There was no question of it, she simply must do Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts.  Her quill hovered by Charms, but she deliberated a while and consulted her prospectus.  She opted for Runic Studies and handed her sheet in to a smiling clerk at the desk.

"Here's your room key, meal ticket and welcome pack," she beamed.  

Hermione was about to say something but the clerk got there first.

"Go out of this building, Luciva is the one with the red flags on the turrets.  You will need to go up the stairs and down the corridor to the left.  Next please."

Hermione tried to remember all of this information.  She left the office and went outside.  It was raining again.  She quickly performed a shielding charm to stop herself getting wet, and, with luggage in tow, set off for Luciva Hall.

******

                Draca, as he was named strode angrily down the corridors of what was to be his dormitory.  The walls here were a deep pink colour.  _Pink!  Of all colours!  He reached his room and stepped inside.  It was worse than just bad.  It was like living in a wardrobe.  He sighed and flopped down onto the bed.  It made an ominous creaking sound.  Draco immediately jumped off, cursing.  Well, at least he had a single room and a bathroom.  He didn't have to worry about any disturbances.  Suddenly, through the wall burst the sounds of  some kind of racket.  He didn't have time to ask what it was, however, before a stunningly beautiful girl ducked, giggling into his room.  Draco arched his eyebrows questioningly at her.  She simpered and opened her mouth to speak._

"What are you doing in my room," said Draco, beating her to it.

"Shh," the girl said.  She had the most extraordinary green eyes he had ever seen.

Draco surveyed her, puzzled.  He found all his sarcasm he always had to hand was lost.

"I'm hiding," she said.

"Who fr-," but before Draco could finish his sentence, another girl burst into the room, also giggling and threw a  water balloon at her friend.

"I'm gonna get you for that!" the girl laughed and they both ran from the room laughing.

Draco stared at the door and then shrugged and started to unpack.

******

                Hermione had found her room, but this was only after many wrong turnings and asking for directions from a suit of armour.  She sighed happily and turned her key in the lock.  Her luggage floated in dreamily after her.  She shut the door and got out her wand.  

_"Dispaveras,"_ she said and her trunk opened and luggage started shooting across the room and neatly into drawers.  A lurid pink bra collided into her face and she laughed.  It was the nicest sound she had heard all day.  Next door she could hear some ABBA songs being played at full blast.  She stepped into the shower and started to sing.....

"_Dancing Queen!  Young and sweet, only seventeen,_

_Dancing Queen, feel the beat from the tambourine oh yeaaah!_

_You can dance, you can........"_  and just like that, her enjoyment was ended when she heard a muffled banging coming from the left wall of her room.

"SHUT UP!"  

It was clearly a man's voice.  Hermione was truly puzzled.  She dried herself off and put her clothes back on.

_"Stratus,"_ she said, and pointed her wand at her hair.  Now, instead of bushy curls, there were long, gleaming, straight locks.

She applied a lip reddening charm and an eye-liner charm on herself and padded barefoot next door to investigate.

******

                Draco heard the knock on the door and opened one eye lazily.  The knocking was becoming more persistent.  He sighed and got up.  

"Allright, allright," he groaned and slowly opened the door.

A smile spread across his face, like oil on water.  "Granger," he breathed, "real nice of you to drop in."

He looked on in satisfaction as Hermione flushed and gave him a look of absolute loathing.

"Malfoy," said she, "what a surprise."

"What are you doing here, Granger?  I heard that mudbloods like you couldn't get in.," Draco sneered.

Hermione glanced at the name-plate on his door which bore the words "DRACA MALFOY" in purple glittering letters.  She raised an eyebrow.  Draco flushed angrily.

"Just came to welcome you to the dorm, Draca,"she said and tried not to laugh.

"You disgust me, Granger.  I don't know why you thought you could even fit in here, you filthy mudblood."

Draco suspected this was a little over the top, but Hermione's calling him Draca had annoyed him more than he had first thought.

Hermione flushed once more and brought her knee up sharply, just centimetres from his groin.

"I hope that the day I publically castrate you, everyone will be there to watch, and I know I will enjoy the show," she hissed into his ear.

Draco blanched at the thought and slammed the door in her face.  

"Great," he thought, "just what I needed, the old Draco is back!"

******

                Hermione slammed back into her room and sat down on her bed.  She nibbled her lip anxiously.  She hoped in vain that it would not be like this until she left.  She wanted to make some kind of truce.  She grabbed a quill and some parchment and started a letter to Harry.

_Dear Harry,_

_                How are you?  I am writing to you from my dorm, it's in Luciva Hall.  It's very small, but not too bad.  The university itself is a large castle, it's amazing, I hope you and Ron can come to visit me sometime!!_

_                I had a fright just now.  I was singing in the shower, and someone told me to shut up!  Apart from that I nearly dropped the soap, it was a man's voice!  I was very confused, as there shouldn't be any men in my part of the dorm.  Anyway, I went next door and knocked to see who it was.  It was Malfoy, Harry,  he's here and he's right next door.  He made it so clear he didn't want me here!  He called me a mudblood, like the way we used to argue in the first year._

_                You'll never guess what though!  He's been sorted into the wrong dormitory!  He should be in the boys' bit, but they misspelled his name on the records, so his name is now Draca!!! I laughed so hard, and he got pretty angry.  I hope I'm not in any of his classes!_

_                I am really looking forward to lessons, I am doing Arithmancy, Potions, Defence against the Dark Arts and Runic studies._

_                How is your new job?  What do you do exactly?  I miss you and Ron so much!  I wish you were here!  Any girlfriends on the horizon?  Tell me all your news, and stop me from feeling so lonely!  Got to go to dinner now....Hope to see you soon, Lots of Love, Hermione xxx_

                Hermione rolled up the parchment and selected a piece of purple ribbon from a box to her right.  She tied the ribbon around the parchment and put it in her pocket for when she could find an Owl to take it for her.  She closed the door softly, after checking her reflection in the mirror and  grabbing  her keys and meal ticket from the bedside table.  She walked down the corridor and froze when she heard a soft voice behind her.  

"My, my we are keen today," Draco sneered, with a malicious smile on his face.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" said Hermione.

"Oh, nothing special, just keeping you on your toes," and with that, he passed her down the corridor, lightly slapping her behind as he went.

Hermione spluttered and then resolved to get her own back someday.  He was uncontrollable and Hermione could feel the rage tighten her throat.

******

                Harry awoke to a loud tapping on the window.  He blearily reached for his glasses, only to find they were not there.  He groaned and realised he had left them at work.  He pointed his wand at his eyes and muttered _"Occhialis"_.  He whispered _"Lumos" and gradually his vision cleared.  The tapping became more insistent and Harry swung his legs out of his bed.  He cursed, it was freezing.  He opened the window and in flew a large tawny owl.  The owl settled itself on the bed-rail and glared down at him imperiously.  Harry deposited a few knuts and sickles into the bird's pouch and took the parchment.  The bird flew out and he shut the window._

                He unrolled the parchment and his eyes focussed on Hermione's tidy script.  He smiled despite himself.  He laughed out loud and set the letter next to his bed.

                If anyone would have asked her, Hermione still would have said that Harry was still the boy she met in the first year.  Harry's eyes were a dazzling bright green and his hair an untidy mop.  He figured he should have it cut eventually, but for now, he just pushed it off his face with his hand.

                A sudden movement caught his eye.  He looked over and looked confusedly at a beautiful red-headed girl who seemed to have claimed his bed.  The sheet only just barely covered her and one of her legs draped invitingly over it.  Harry had no idea as to who she was or where she had come from, but he knew that he had had far too many Dragon's Blood cocktails that night.  He suddenly didn't feel too well.  He rushed on unsteady legs to the bathroom and unceremoniously christened the towels in vomit.  

******

                Hermione stood impatiently in the dinner queue.  She ws very hungry, and the smells that emanated from the large kitchen made her stomach growl.  She looked on in amusement as Draco proceeded to have an argument with a house-elf about the quality of the food.  The house-elf looked faintly embarrassed.  Hermione murmured  something under her breath and pointed her wand at Draco.  Draco immediately fell over, causing his food to fly over a now very irate house-elf.  There was a shocked silence in the dining-hall, and then everybody in the hall as one started laughing uproariously.

"Alright, ALRIGHT!," Draco yelled and the hall was silent once more.

                Then  one person started talking, then another, and pretty soon everyone was resuming eating and talking, as they were before the incident.  Hermione watched with interest as Draco picked himself up, two spots of pink blazing on his otherwise pale face.  He fought his way to the to the exit and left the dining-hall.

******

                He might have known she would have pulled a stunt like this.  Draco was seething.  He flounced back to his bedroom and ripped a piece of parchment from his correspondence set.  He snatched a quill and paused for a moment.  A frown tarnished his otherwise perfect features.  When he had finished he folded it in two and slipped it into his pocket.  He stepped into the shower and got changed.  He allowed a self-satisfied smirk to play on his lips as he stole a glance in the mirror.

                Draco wandered down the halls, broomstick in hand.  He had heard there was a local Wizard town nearby and was determined to find it.  He recalled it being named Elresias and spotted a signpost not far off down the mountain side.  He flew into the square and looked around.  There were several things of interest: a night club, a strip club, named "Pocket Broomstick", several pubs, shops and, bizarrely, a staircase in the middle of the square leading to seemingly nowhere.  Draco deliberated for a moment and then turned into the Pocket Broomstick.  He was greeted by loud music and bright falshing lights.  He was momentarily blinded, then a beautiful woman sidled up to him as showed him to the bar.

"I'll have a Wolfsbane Headbanger," he drawled to a particularly voluptuous barmaid.

She winked coquettishly and said "Coming right up sir..."

Draco swivelled around his barstool to watch the show.  It was vey impressive.  He heard a voice next to him.

"Those cannot POSSIBLY be real," he said

Draco looked around and to a heaving bosom on the stage which was owned by a rather short witch.

"Nah," he said "enlargement charm."

******

                Hermione had not enjoyed her meal.  She had no friends as yet, and everyone seemed to know everyone else here.  She bustled back to her room and found a folded piece of parchment tucked under the door.  She opened it with intrigue.  It said simply:

_I should have known it was you.  Nice trick, perhaps next time you can conjure me a little bunch of flowers._

She knew instinctively it was from Draco.  She _knew that green ink and that writing.  She sighed and changed into her pyjamas.  She was pretty proud of them, actually.  She had found them in a muggle shop.  There was a red silk camisole and matching very short shorts.  She sat in her bed and listened to some music.  She unwrapped a chocolate frog and glanced at the time: it was half past ten.  _

_"What are you doing, Hermione," she scolded herself, "you are at university now, you should be out having fun!"_

"Maybe I don't feel like having fun," she snapped out loud.

She blew out her lamp and went to sleep.

******

                Hermione awoke to a kind of scrabbling at the lock and turned over sleepily.  She heard muffled cursing coming from the other side of the door.  She instantly was on her feet and she slid her feet into a pair of slippers.  Yawning and stretching, she opened the door and found herself face to face with Draco Malfoy.

******

                Draco was very surprised to find Hermione at his door.  So surprised in fact, that if he had been capable of properly coherent speech, he wouldn't have spoken at all.  He opened and shut his mouth several times in the manner of a fish and managed a lewd wink at Hermione.

"Can't get in door," he said, sounding like a Neanderthal.

"That is evident," replied Hermione crisply, "seeing as you are trying to get into the wrong room in the first place."

"Where arrrre the keys?" Draco asked and stabbed a finger into Hermione's chest.

Hermione sighed and noticed he had in fact not only tried to get into her room, but he didn't even have a key in his hand; only a combination of a paperclip attached to a twig.

"Did you come out with your keys, Draco?"

"Yesh,  I fink soo," he brightened.

He aimed a misjudged kiss somewhere near her mouth and Hermione staggered backwards into the room and fell on top of her bed, pulling Draco with her.  She squirmed wildly, but Draco was a dead-weight.

"You know," he said as Hermione strove to stop his hands from wandering "you really clean up ok"

With that he fell asleep.  Hermione managed to wrestle Draco's unconcious form off her and shut the door.  From her wardrobe she retrieved spare blankets and cushions and made herself a bed.  She went to sleep.

******

                Draco woke up and groaned.  The pain was splitting his head in two.  He cautiously opened one eye, and then the other.  He first only saw sunlight streaming through the curtains.  He shut his eyes again.  He opened them to see a a figure in bright red pyjamas whisk by him and pull some underwear from a drawer.  He tried to figure out where he was exactly.  Presumably, this wasn't his bed, judging by the girl collecting her stuff from the drawer and the assortment of cushions and blankets on the floor.  He heard the shower being turned on.  Several moments later a towel-clad Hermione emerged from the bathroom.

"I see you are awake," she acknowledged.

"Granger?!  Why the hell am I in your room?" he  asked, a note of panic creeping into his voice.

"Well, I'm so glad you asked.  Last night was awful.  It was the worst sex I have ever had in my life!"  Draco failed to notice the impish amusement in her voice.

"WHAT?"

"You heard me.  Now bye bye, lover, I have to run and get some breakfast.  Let yourself out and I will meet you later to discuss wedding details."

She disappeared into the bathroom and then Draco heard the door slam as she went down to breakfast.

He suddenly realised he had been had.  With a roar of rage he attempted to get up, but the splitting pain in his head exploded and he miserably lay back down.  He groped for his wand and pointed it at his forehead.  The pain subsided and Draco felt the strength to get up.  He amused himself by looking through Hermione's underwear drawer.

"Not quite the little priss underneath, are we?" he mused out loud, as a a neon pink see-through bra caught his attention.

******

                Hermione hoped that when she got back to her room, Draco would have vacated it.  But this was not the case.  She unlocked her door, only to hear the shower running, and Draco's clothes dumped over a chair.  She could not resist looking at them; a kind of morbid curiosity.  She looked at his boxers.

"Very expensive, I know, now would you please put them down?"  Hermione froze and went red.  She went to sit on her bed and stiffly started to pack her bag for her lectures.

_"I will not look up, I will not look up," _she told herself_._

But curiosity overrode sense.  She glanced up and caught sight of a very toned body.  Draco collected his clothes.  Hermione tried not to stare.  The atmosphere was electric.  As Draco bent over to reach his shoes, the towel slipped slightly and Draco grabbed it, before it could drop any further.  She wondered vaguely how good the rest of his body under the towel was and then scolded herself.

"What are you looking at, Granger?"

Hermione started and dropped all her books.  "_Nice one Hermione", she said silently.  She got up abruptly and left the room, just as Draco's towel slid from his waist and down to the floor._


	2. Something Unexpected

                Ron started and opened his eyes.  It took several moments for him to realise where he was exactly.  He appeared to be lying next to what appeared to be an enormous carpet entirely comprised of something yellow.  He looked around and then down to a girl who was sleeping next to him.  

_"Some party!"_ he thought.

The night before, he had been invited to a party on campus.  He had met so many people here already.  Some guy - maybe his name was Jean-Pierre had invited everyone to his party on the campus playing field.  He vaguely remembered dancing wildly, limbs flying in every direction.  It was apparent, that he had also slept on the field, along with many others.  A shrill bell interrupted his thoughts and he immediately clapped his hands over his ears.  The girl next to him -  he thought she was called Abrielle - stirred and spoke in  a deep, throaty voice.

"Zut alors! Je suis en retard pour mes études!"

Ron had no idea what this meant, but it sounded very poetic.  The girl tried to get up, but this was marred by the fact that one of the buttons on her jumper appeared to be caught on Ron's watch strap.  This, in effect, had them both back onto the floor, in the manner of a slapstick comedy routine.  Abrielle rolled her eyes at Ron, as if he were the last thing she wanted to wake up to and lightly tapped his wrist with her wand.  The button and watch strap sprang apart immediately.  Ron bent down to help Abrielle up, but as he did so, he knocked his head against hers.

"Stupide eenglish," she said, contemptuously, swished her hair haughtily and walked as pointedly away from Ron as she could muster in high heels.

******

                When Draco finally made it back to his own room, this time, using an actual key, he realised that he really couldn't be bothered to go to his Defence Against the Dark Arts class.  Instead, he mooched down the long corridors.  He finally made it to the campus coffee bar and ordered a large cappuccino.  He took his time drinking his coffee and perused his Potions textbook.  He had Potions next and he was going to have Professor Oriana, or so his timetable said.  Using his campus map, he navigated his way to the potions laboratory and pushed open the door.  The Professor, who had been talking, stopped in mid-flow and looked at him quizzically with bright blue eyes.

"So nice of you to join us so late into the lesson, but who exactly are you?" her eyes danced with amusement.

"I'm Draco Malfoy.  What do you mean, late?! If anything I'm early!" Draco responded.

"Bit keen aren't we?  You students seem to be the ones who use university lectures as an excuse to catch up on some sleep! You're in the wrong lesson.  Yours will start in ten minutes, don't worry!"

Draco blushed and tried to think of something witty to say back.

"Catch," she said and tossed something to him.  He caught it.  It was a compact mirror.  "You might want to look at your face before you carry on with the rest of your day.  The class sniggered.  Draco opened the compact mirror and glanced at his reflection.  Yes, there he was looking rather...hey! was that.......cappuccino froth on his upper lip?!  It was!  He snapped the compact shut and glared at Professor Oriana.  He used one sleeve to wipe the remnants of his cappuccino from his lips and stated:

"I like it that way."  He left the classroom and the class stared in astonishment at his retreating form before bursting into helpless laughter.

******

                Hermione had just come from Defence Against the Dark Arts and was not in a good mood.  Since the incident with Draco, her mind had decided to vacate her head and take a walk down Lust Avenue.  She couldn't help but think of the faintly tanned skin and his sleek, toned body.  This, inevitably meant that she had not really concentrated during her class.  This, unfortunately had resulted in the teacher picking on her to answer a few of the many questions he had asked.  Hermione, whose hand had always been the first to shoot up in Hogwarts and deliver the correct answer, was surprised to find that words failed her.  Not only that, but at least fifty pairs of eyes had been staring at her as she said "Umm..." for what seemed like centuries before admitting she had no idea.  Not only this, but, at the end of the lecture, she found, to her dismay, that the students behind her had been tearing up pieces of parchment and sticking them into her hair.

                She wrenched open the door to the girls' bathroom and slouched in.  She gingerly picked the pieces of paper from her hair and dropped them into the bin.  She kicked the bin, which squealed in protest.  A girl appeared from one of the cubicles.

"Bad day?" she asked.

"Yes, and I have only had one lecture so far!" Hermione grumbled.

"What lecture did you have?"

"I just had Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Sevilen.  I don't think he likes me very much," Hermione explained.

The girl nodded sympathetically.  "Well I'm Alina, I'm from Zosia Hall" she said and stuck out a hand.

Hermione took the proffered hand and shook it vigorously.  "I'm Hermione and I'm lost," she replied.

The girl laughed gaily and her dark brown curls swished around her head, fanning out like a halo.  "I know how you feel.  This place is like a maze!  Where are you going?"

"I'm going to my Potions lecture with Professor Oriana," Hermione replied and smiled.  It felt good to have a friend.

"Oh! Me too! I have a map here, let's see if we can find it together!"

Hermione walked along with Alina.  She observed that these hallways were not at all like Hogwarts.  They were a lot quieter.  The hallways at Hogwarts were always heaving with students.

"Here we are," Alina said and pushed open the door.  

They were late.  There were only  a few seats left in the class.  Alina motioned for Hermione to come and sit next to her on an empty table.

"Just a minute!" Hermione jumped violently.  She hadn't realised the Professor was behind her.  "I want you all to sit in you lab partner pairings," Professor Oriana said.   "You must be Alina Malackey and Hermione Granger, correct?"

Hermione and Alina nodded and Professor Oriana ticked off the names on her list.  "Alina, you are partners with Xavier," she indicated towards an extremely attractive dark-haired boy and Alina went to sit down.  "Hermione, your partner is Draco," she said and both Draco and Hermione scowled.  Hermione went to sit down, aware the the person with the body that had been on her thoughts all morning was sitting right next to her.  She gulped and took her textbook out of her bag, her hand accidentally brushing against Draco's thigh.  The effect was electric; Draco jumped and sneered at her.

"Looking for cheap thrills, are we Granger?"

"If I wanted cheap thrills, I would just call one of your many tarts," she replied sharply.

"Speaking of tarts," said Draco, "was it suspenders and fishnet stockings I saw in your drawer this morning...?"

******

                Ginny sighed and stared unhappily out of the window.  She wasn't really friends with the people in her year.  She had enjoyed Hogwarts when Hermione, Ron and Harry were here.  Especially Harry.  The Yule Ball would be coming up soon and she had a slight inkling that the only possible person who would ask her would be Colin Creevey.  Ginny wished she was a flame-haired temptress; then she could have any guy she wanted.  Outside, the rain lashed unrelentlessly down and she watched as the Gryffindor Quidditch team attempted to have a practice on the pitch.  She had to get out.  She opted to go to Hogsmeade.

                She slipped away and ran through the rain, with her hood up on her cloak.  She reached The Three Broomsticks and stepped inside.  The warmth hit her like a wave and she was grateful for it.  She smiled at Madame Rosmerta.

"One butterbeer, please," she said.

Madame Rosmerta handed it to her and Ginny edged around the packed tables of the pub, looking for somewhere to sit.  Unfortunately the only table which was not packed had a sinister looking man sitting at it, all alone.  He glanced in Ginny's direction and Ginny held his gaze for a moment before flushing to the roots of her red mane.  She decided to sit at a barstool.  Eventually the man came over and sat beside her.  Ginny was extremely uncomforatable at this arrangement, and even more so when he lowered his hood and proceeded to talk to her.

                He had the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen; it was like you could drown in them, they were so deep.  His features were sharp but perfect and his face flawless, punctuated by his brown eyes.

"Your father must have been a thief, because he stole the stars and put them in your eyes," he said, with a half-smile on his face.

Ginny snorted and almost spat out her mouthful of butterbeer.  "Oh please! That is a muggle chat-up line," she said, "try to think of something more original."

"Would it help if I said I thought you were beautiful?" he replied.

Ginny wrinkled her nose and contemplated this.  "Perhaps." she said.  "You had better tell me your name."

******

                Hermione had dined with Alina and her friends.  They were very nice and even invited her to come out with them afterwards but she declined.  During dinner, Alina had confided to Hermione that she thought Draco was _"kinda cute".  Hermione mimicked Alina's brassy American accent.  Hermione was surprised to find a rush of jealousy surge through her veins.  __"Get a grip, Hermione," she said to herself.  Perhaps she really was losing her head.  She walked up to her room and changed into her pyjamas.  She sat in bed for a while, reading a book about Ancient Runes.  The dorm was too quiet: most people were at parties.  She delved to the bottom of her trunk and found a bottle of Centaurian Wine.  She took this, a blanket, a magazine and some parchment and quills with her down to the Common Room where she sat herself on one of the sofas in front of a blazing fire.  She uncorked the wine and began to drink.  It didn't take her long to start feeling light-headed.  Still, she drank more and eventually fell asleep._

                When she awoke, she had no recollection of where she was.  She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something had woken her up.  She heard the door shut and she cried out shrilly:

"Who's there?"

She glanced at the clock, on the mantelpiece above the now glowing embers which were once the fire.  It was 1:10 am.  She saw a figure walk past.  Her mind swirled from the alcohol and she attempted to get up.

******

                Draco was thirsty.  He walked dazedly through the Common Room.  He had heard something, like someone crying out "Who's there?" but put it down to someone in the ground floor dorms.  He failed to notice the figure on the sofa by the fire, but he did hear a soft padding of feet after him.  Something bumped straight into him, and despite himself he screamed out loud.  The lanterns in the room all lit up at once and he once again found himself staring face to face with Hermione Granger.  Her eyes were bright, her hair in disarray, and she walked, swaying from side to side.  It dawned on Draco that she was much more than just a little tipsy.

"Granger.  What are you doing here?"

Hermione raised her chin defiantly.  "I have as much right to be here as any."

Draco noticed she looked disturbingly sexy in her pyjamas, and he had felt the sparks when she had accidentally brushed his leg earlier that day.

"Didn't they check if you were a mudblood or not before you came in, then?"

Hermione suddenly became very angry very quickly.  She slapped Draco hard across the face.  "There's more where that came from," she hissed.

Despite her anger, Hermione's eyes inexplicably moved down to Draco's smooth torso.  She noticed he certainly wasn't wearing very much.  Just some boxers.  Hermione felt herself flush.  Draco, still reeling from the slap noticed this and smiled, unbeknown to Hermione.

"Granger, I suggest you run off home to your little mudblood family where you belong," he drawled.

"I have hated you since the day I met you," Hermione replied with real hatred in her voice.  Draco was amused to note she sounded like she was going to cry.

"Gee, thanks! Damn I should have tried harder!" Draco said.

Hermione raised her arm for another slap and Draco caught it neatly, closing the gap between them as he did.  They were now very close to each other.  Hermione could smell Draco's expensive aftershave.  She felt a flutter in her stomach, but was determined to be resolute.  

"Let me go!" she whined.

"You are free to go," he said smoothly, "but I don't see you going."

Hermione glared at him and started to cry angrily.  Draco was at a complete loss as of what to do.  She started wailing.  This soon turned to physical abuse, as she attempted to paw and scratch him in her drunken stupor and rage.  She pummelled his chest with her fists.  Draco pinned her arms down and she collasped in a soggy heap on the floor, snuffling quietly.  He sank down next to her and fought the urge to hold her.  She looked up at him and he glared at her vehemently.  Suddenly, he lunged forward and kissed her firmly on the mouth.  He could hear her muffled cries and struggles, but pushed her firmly onto her back in the middle of the kitchen floor.  She eventually kissed back, almost hungrily.  He could taste her tears.  Forgetting who she was, he pushed down one of the straps of her camisole and started to slide one practised and manicured hand up her smooth leg.

******

                Hermione suddenly realised what she was doing and wave after wave of repulsion hit her.  She felt Draco's caress, and she knew her legs were entwined around his waist, pulling him closer to him.  She couldn't stop herself.  Draco's ham-handed attempt to undress her was the last straw for Hermione.  She brought her knee up quickly between his legs and he immediately recoiled, taking his slimy hands with him.

"I refuse to let you treat me like one of your....whores!" she yelled at him, whilst he was curled up breathing ragged gasps on the floor.  "Don't you dare touch me again," she lowered her voice to a near whisper and started to walk from the room.

"But, mudblood, admit it, you enjoyed it!" he gasped in her wake.

Hermione shot a furious glare over her shoulder and stormed from the room.  Draco, from his position on the floor, groaned and put his hands behind his head.  He just hoped he wasn't impotent.

******

                Harry vaguely heard footsteps coming down the hallway, which must have woke him from an unaccountably bizarre dream, in which he had to interview a roast chicken and mayonaise salad which spoke fluent Polish.  He could hear heavy breathing and cursing nearby.  He looked up and into a pair of bloodshot eyes.

"Hey-" he said, before a hand roughly covered his mouth.

A voice spoke "Keep guard of 'im whilst we go an' check the premises.  We gotta find it.  It's 'ere somewhere."

Harry instantly felt the ice cold feeling of dread hit his stomach.  The alarm to the mystical artifacts room wasn't on.  He was working late.  His ruminations were halted, however, when a large blow, delivered to the back of the head from an unknown assailant knocked him out cold.

When he came to, all he could see were pink spots in front of his eyes.  He appeared to be tied up.  The large angry face of Cornelius Fudge looked down at him.

"Harry, what made you think you would get away with it?"  Fudge hissed.

"With what?" Harry asked confusedly.

"Don't try and pull the wool over my eyes, boy.  We all know you did it.  Now come on, where have you stashed the Orb of Macrinus?"

"Wha--?"  said Harry, attempting to sit himself upright.

"Harry Potter, we are arresting you on suspicion of having stolen the Orb of Macrinus.  Anything you say herewith can be used against you in Wizarding Court.  Take him away."

Harry could not believe it.  He COULD NOT believe it.  The Daily Prophet would have a field day.  He was bundled into a van and felt the van jolt as it started to move.  He could hear the guards' conversation in the front seat.

"That 'Arry Potter, wouldn't 'ave expected 'im in years!" said the first guard.

"S'always the quiet ones, I think e's guilty," said the second.

The van lurched to a halt and Harry was bundled out of it and down several long, cold corridors and into a cell.

"Sweet dreams, princess," said the prison guard and slammed the door shut.

******

                Hermione stared at the copy of the Daily Prophet which had been left outside her door that morning.  There, on the front page, was arryHHHarry, grimacing into the camera, with his hands bound.  The headline read : "THE BOY WHO LIVED CAUGHT IN MINISTRY HEIST".  Hermione read the article, leaving her bowl of cereal untouched.

"So, you've seen the wonderful he-who-can-do-no-wrong Potter finally got caught!" said a voice over her shoulder.

Hermione jumped and knocked her bowl of cereal over.  She spun around furiously, but Draco had already gone.

******

                At a similar kind of time, in a completely different country, Ron was equally as shocked.  The Chudley Cannons had lost the Quidditch National Cup to another rival team.  It was then that he dropped the Daily Prophet disgustedly onto his bed and saw the front page.

"Bloody hell, Harry," he said quietly, "bloody hell."

******

                Harry awoke in the cold cell around about 6:00 in the evening.  Someone had left him some revolting looking slop on a plate and had deigned to call it food.  He was aching and cold and the prison guard watched him owlishly.  A bell chimed, indicating it was time to leave the cells and proceed to the excercise yard.  Harry's door was opened and he made to follow the other prisoners.

"Not you, Potter, you're coming with me," a gruff voice intoned.

Harry was led into a small room, in which sat a small, rumpled man.  Harry sat down and the man looked up and smiled at him.  The guard left the room.  The man spoke.

"Hello, Harry," he said timidly, "I am your lawyer, Herman Alfonse."

_"Great," _Harry thought, _"I might as well pack my bags for Azkaban now."_

******

                Ginny hummed to herself as she got ready to go out and meet her mystery man.  She smoothed down her dress and ran a comb through her hair.  She considered using an enlargement charm, but then dec ided against it.  She put her cloak on and glanced one last time in the mirror.  She was to meet him in Hogsmeade.  She slipped out of the dormitory, taking care not to be seen.

******

                Hermione had had the incident with Draco on her mind all day.  Part of her mind was inwardly cursing her for not carrying on, and the other part was tuning somersaults and singing "Congratulations!"  His touch made her tingle, but he was such a bastard to her.  Perhaps that was what made it all the more exciting.  She wanted to breathe in his scent again and feel his skin on hers.  She sighed and made her way back up to her room, only to find Draco outside.

"What do you want, Draco?"

"I wanted to say, that if you say anything to anyone about what happened last night, Granger, you can kiss your university scholarship goodbye!" Draco snapped.

"If you had kept your hands to yourself, then none of this would have happened!"

Hermione flounced into her room and slammed the door shut.

******

                Draco smiled.  All he needed to do now was aggravate her.  She would come back for more, he was sure of it.  Draco walked down the corridor and, upon rounding a corner found a stunningly attractive girl, having trouble with the floor's snack charmer.  He saw her kick it in anger and stepped forward.

"Need any help?" he said.

The girl looked up.  She had beautiful blue eyes and black hair which tumbled down her shoulders..  "It won't let me get a chocolate frog," she said petulantly, and pouted.  

Draco found this adorable and smiled winningly at her.  "My name is Draco.  Would you like a coffee?"

"I'm Camille, and I would love a coffee," she said.

Draco took her hand and they walked down to the coffee bar.

******

                Dumbledore paced his study nervously.  "Nothing like this has ever happened before, Minerva, it shows we have failed our duties,"

"Do you think I don't know that, Albus? She was under my care, and now she has gone missing.  We searched the grounds and Hogsmeade when one of her fellow students raised the alarm." Professor Mcgonagall snapped.

"When the Daily Prophet hears of this..." Dumbledore paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"When the Daily Prophet hears of this, we could be banished!" Professor Mcgonagall interjected.

Albus Dumbledore laced his long fingers together and said, quietly, "Send an owl to her parents."

Professor Mcgonagall nodded, her face pale, and left the room.

******

                Harry picked up the Daily Prophet that had been left on the table by another inmate began to read.  The headline read: "HOGWARTS STUDENT MISSING."  Harry's curiosity was immediately aroused and he read further.

_"Albus Dumbledore speaks of the mysterious disapperance of Virginia Weasely, a last year student of Hogwarts as "baffling"Is this the end to Hogwart's reign on the world of education in sorcery?"Updates tomorrow._

Harry knew he had to get out.  He had to save Ginny, but how?

 ogmHHHHHHHellHH


	3. Something Unexpected

                Ron received the owl from his parents just as he received the Daily Prophet that morning.  Several words sprang out at him.  Virginia.  Weasely.  Missing.  He resolved to go and meet his parents at Hogwarts.  He hastily packed a bag and left his room.  On his way out, he collided with Abrielle, sending her tower of what seemed like alphabetically organised papers cascading to the floor.  He did not stop to pick them up, however, and the angry French girl, who was not used to such rudeness sent a stream of curses after him.

                Ron arrived in England on "Le Bus Chevalier", the French version of the Knight Bus.  He went straight home, a mixture of nervous energy and foreboding pervading his thoughts.  He met a tearful mother at the door, and, together with his father, and twin brothers, travelled by Floo Powder to Hogwarts.

******

                Whilst all this was happening, Harry was attempting to escape from his cell.  It was not very well guarded, or magically protected as it was just a temporary holding cell. He knew he would be taken to Azkaban a little later, so it fueled his desire to get out.  _"Accio wand"_ he tried.  Nothing happened.  He tried again, and still nothing happened.  Harry guessed they must have locked it away somewhere.  Harry waited quietly at the large hatch where his dinner was to be pushed through.  Most of the prisoners here were completely incapacitated mentally, so there was no need for maximum security, as they were unlikely to do anything harmful.  At last, the hatch opened and Harry seized his moment.  He delivered a forceful blow to the back of the guard's knee, causing him to come crashing down.  Harry looked over at the guard.  He appeared to be out cold.  

_"Captiosus," _Harry whispered.  This spell would make him have the stealth of a cat; he would not be noticed as easily.  He took the guard's wand and cloak and wrapped himself up in it, taking care to draw up the hood.  He walked with the wand out in front of him, and tried to keep out of any light.  He passed the room he had been ushered into the other day to meet the lawyer.  He pressed on.  He passed a room filled with confiscated prisoners' items.  He entered it, and at the back saw his wand, thrown carelessly into a glass-topped case, with so many other wands.

_"Alohomora,"_ he said and opened the case.  An unearthly shriek issued from the case.  Harry grabbed his wand, and put his hands over his ears.  He ran from the room, feeling quiet dizzy from the sound and ran down the corridor.  The enchanted prison gate loomed up in front of him.  He had no idea how he could escape.  He spotted a broomstick propped up against the gate.

_"Things always turn up, just when I need them," _he thought.  He kicked off from the ground.  He tried to fly over the gate, but a magical force field prevented him.  He could see the guards spilling out of the main building.  He sighed and lowered himself back down to the ground.  It was now or never.  He turned directly to the guard in the gate control box and yelled....

"VOLDEMORT!!"

The guards, who had been rushing towards him suddenly stopped.  They were not the brightest of creatures, seemingly direct descendants of the Nether Troll.  One guard scratched his head.  The guard in the gate control box edged towards the door, and screaming loudly, ran for his life.  Harry stared after it before saying calmly...

_"Stupefy!"_

The guard immediately stopped and fell over.  Harry turned to face the other guards.

"Right, now you know what I'm capable of, will someone please turn of the magical force field over the gate, otherwise I shall have to perform the Cruciatius curse on each and every one of you." 

 The guards hustled together like a flock of chickens.  Harry advanced on them menacingly, and, eventually, one guard stepped into the gate control booth.  Harry kicked off from the ground once more and felt the air breeze through his hair.  He turned round and hovered over the gate.  He stuck a middle finger up at the prison officials who had come out of the building, shouted  "Hasta la vista!" and flew off.

******

                Ginny cautiously opened one eye.  Her head _hurt.  She had no recollection of the events of the past few hours.  She shook her muzzy head bemusedly, as if to dispel the sense of confusion and dread.  She twisted round and surveyed her surroundings.  She appeared to be in some kind of stone cell.  All she remembered was meeting the stranger in Hogsmeade Square._

_"What have you gotten yourself into this time, Virginia Weasley?"_  she berated herself, silently.  She shivered and pulled her cloak further around her body.  It was completely black in her cell, the sudden light made her wince and shield her eyes.  The stranger she had met in the pub sidled in and smiled benignly.  Ginny glared back.

"I expect you are wondering why you are here," he spoke in a clear voice.

"Yes." Ginny returned shortly.

"Well.  My master ordered me to abduct and seduce you.  It would make you more subservient and easier to control.. You see, Miss Weasley, you will be very useful in our latest plan."

"What plan would that be then?" Ginny asked worriedly.

"I cannot reveal the plans completely as yet, but they involve Master Potter."

"Harry? Wha-?" Ginny said, trying to rise to her feet.  The stranger raised his wand and thin ropes tied her hands and feet together.  Ginny cried out.  

"And now I must leave you.  I will be back later with some food.  Please remember, Miss Weasley, that we never meant to hurt you, whatever becomes of you."

He left the cell and left Ginny sitting in the middle of the floor bound and helpless.

******

                Draco lay back in his bed with a smile of pure ecstasy on his face as the beautiful girl he had taken to coffee that afternoon gently licked his inner thigh.  It was now late evening and he had invited her back to his room, under the pretense of showing her his broomstick.  She was certainly seeing at least one kind of broomstick.  Draco laughed inwardly at the joke and gave a sigh of pleasure as the girl's tongue gradually began to move upwards.

_"That ups my count to one girl, then,"_ thought Draco, discounting Hermione.

Draco began to breathe heavily and then thought he caught a glimpse of the stars and a plethora of rainbows right before his eyes.  Camille looked up and wrinkled her nose prettily.  She swallowed.

"You don't take long," she said.

Draco smiled lazily.  "All the more time to be spent on you," he purred.

Camille smiled suggestively and Draco winked back at her.  She pulled him on top of her and whispered:

"I think you should return the favour."

Draco smiled and ran his tongue over his lips.  It was going to be a good night then.

******

                Hermione woke up the next morning with a bursting need to talk to Draco.  She got up and into the shower.  She hummed to herself as she lathered her hair and wrapped herself into a bathrobe.  She picked out some clothes for the day.  She went down to breakfast, and her cosmetic charms seemed to be holding their own.  She waved to Alina and her friends and went to sit with them at their table.  Alina widened her eyes.

"You went to school with Harry Potter, didn't you?" she asked.

_"Great, just what I need, another obsessed Harry fan." _she grumbled to herself.  Outwardly, she heard herself saying "Yes, why?"

Alina looked surprised.  "You haven't heard?  It's all over the news."

"What is?" asked Hermione warily, trying to sound casual.

"Harry Potter got busted trying to steal the Orb of Macrinus."

"Oh, that," Hermione waved her hand dismissively, "I'm sure that wasn't him.  They've got the wrong guy.  I was sucked in too at first."

"Yeah, well anyway, they were gonna take him to Azkaban, but he made a jail break.  Rumour has it he's roaming the country right now, and he's armed!"

"That's ridiculous," Hermione snorted.  She turned on her heel, scattering crowds of impatient hungry students and stormed from the Dining Hall.

She figured, that she could talk to Draco now.  Morning seemed to catch his most amenable mood.  She rapped on his door.  She waited a few seconds, but there still no answer.  She knocked again.  Maybe he was still asleep.  She was about to turn away when the door was flung open and an obviously and unusually rumpled Draco emerged.  Hermione noted that although he was still wearing the clothes from the night before, or half of them, she thought drily, eyes moving down his bare torso, he still managed to look great.

"What do you want?" he said hurriedly.

Hermione stepped forward.  "Draco, can we talk?"

"What, now?  No, I'm busy, go and do some studying, or something, mudblood,"  Draco hissed.  He really seemed in a hurry to shut the door on Hermione.

A sleepy voice exuded from the depths of Draco's room.

"Draco, are you going to be much longer?  Come back to bed," the girl said.  Draco flushed and the girl appeared at the door, wearing nothing but Draco's shirt.  "Honey," she whined, contentiously.  She focussed on Hermione sleepily.  She couldn't even  sense the tension in the air.  "Hi," she waggled her fingers.  Then, more to Draco than to anyone else said:  "She's not that pretty is she?"

******

                Harry had been flying for what seemed like days.  He was well aware that the whole country was after him, so he could only fly at night.  He rested during the day in places that he hoped were out of sight from the prying eyes of the Ministry.  He touched down softly onto the grass and looked around suspiciously.  He decided to rest here for the night.  He found a small recess and crawled in.  He wrapped his arms around his legs and felt himself sinking into a deep sleep....

                Harry could subconsciously feel the cold, slimy hand on his face before he realised it was there.  He woke up with a loud "Arghh!" and tried to brush the thing off of his face.  He had assumed it was a spider, but when he opened his eyes, he saw, with a feeling of dread, that this was not the case at all.  His eyes snapped open and he saw the Dementor's face only inches from his, moving in to administer the Dementor's Kiss.  He scrabbled wildly for his wand.  The other Dementors chittered.  His fingers close around his wand and he whipped it out.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he screamed.  A silvery patronus burst out of his wand.  Harry did not stop to see what had happened next.  He had seen it so many times before.  He swung his legs over his broomstick, and with cloak billowing behind him, kicked off from the ground.

******

                Ron had met with Dumbledore and felt disgusted.  There wasn't an awful lot he or anyone else could do.  He returned to the University and slumped into his room.  It was late, and he didn't fancy spending the night alone, but most of the students had gone out for the night.  He chose to go into the nearest small French town, which was a five minute's broomstick ride from the University.  Armed with a broomstick, an anxious Ron, a frown besetting his normally laughing features, walked out of the door and kicked off from the ground.  He circled around the small town square, looking for a place to land.  He skidded to a halt on the ground and brushed the soil off of himself.

_"That's what comes from landing in an ornamental flower bed," _he thought.

He looked around him with interest, and spotted a small, cozy looking bar.  He started towards it, but was side-tracked by an alley.  In the alley was a door with a neon sign above it proclaiming: "LES FILLES SONT PRESQUE GRATUITES!".  Ron looked around him shiftily before pushing open the door.  He was greeted by tacky leopard print barstools and sofas and equally tacky music and flashing lights.  He felt quite giddy.  He sauntered casually over to the bar, hoping he didn't look to out of place and ordered a drink.  He was shown to a table right by the stage by a smiling scantily clad cowgirl.  The stage appeared to be empty, and the club was full of ageing French punters.  A man came through the curtains at the back.  He muttered something Ron couldn't hear and pointed his wand at his throat.

"Monsieurs, je m'appelle Antoine," he boomed to the crowds, "et maintenant, c'est votre amuseuse favorite!  Monsieurs, je vous présente Madame Frappe!"  He bowed deeply and walked backwards through the curtains smiling widely.

_"Ah,"_ thought Ron, _"now something's going to happen."_

The crowd whistled and stamped their feet appreciatively.  There was a sudden burst of music and the curtains were thrown back dramatically.  A blonde vision in complicated black PVC corsetry faced the audience.  She was carrying a black leather whip and wore thigh high boots.  Ron was sure he had seen her somewhere before recently.  She began a seductive pole dancing routine, backed up by other dancers.  She stalked up and down the stage tapping her whip in her hand menacingly.  Without warning, all dancers, save Madame Frappe, as she was called, left the stage and selected willing victims from the crowd.  Ron was hauled up to the front of the stage with four other men.  Man number one was laid across Madame Frappe's lap and whipped until he screeched and tears coursed down his face.  Ron watched, with a pale face as Madame Frappe dealt with the men in quick succession.  As far as he could see, the aim of the game was to last out the longest to win a free private lapdance in a back room.  He bent over, determined to win.

"UN, DEUX, TROIS,!" Madame Frappe shouted into the crowd.  This lasted until "TRENTE!", at which point Ron screamed out loud.

"Nous avons un vainqueur!" Madame Frappe yelled at the audience.  She took Ron's hand and led him to the back room, amid many sighs of disappointment and envy from the punters.

She locked the door to the room and turned around, placing one hand on her hip.  She sashayed over to him, and now Ron could see who it was.  In the gloom of the club he had not been able to make her out, but now he could see who she was.

"Abrielle?" he cried in disbelief.

******

                Hermione was livid.  It was an understatement to say she was livid.  She stormed down the library.  She intended to look up the Macrinus Orb in one of the books, to help her understand why Harry would, if he even had, take such a thing.  She scanned the bookshelves and located a magical encyclopaedia for 'M'.  She flicked through and came to a description.

**_Macrinus Orb, The_**_:  The Macrinus Orb is something of a mystery to all alchemists of late.  No one knows its exact origin, although legend has it that it was made by none other than Rowena Ravenclaw, a founder of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.  There is only one currently in existence, and it is held by the Ministry of Magic.  Its powers are similar to that of a simple Polyjuice Potion; it allows the bearer to assume the body of another, providing that a part of that person is used in conjunction with the Orb.  The difference between the Polyjuice Potion and the Orb of Macrinus is simple: The Orb Of Macrinus allows the bearer to remain the person they choose forever, or until they choose to change back or to another person.  The Orb of Macrinus is also rumoured to have sacred healing power and is able to repel certain curses, one of which is the Cruciatius curse.  These rumours are unfounded as yet .  Attempts have been made to replicate the Orb, but all have failed.  The Orb remains today, one of magic's mysteries.  _

Hermione frowned.  She checked no one was looking and tore the page from the encyclopaedia and slipped it into her bag.

"I saw that," a cheeky voice behind her said.  Hermione jumped, causing books to cascade to the floor.  She blushed deep red and bent down to pick up the books.  The boy helped her and just as she was about to reach for the last book, he did too, and their hands brushed.  Hermione, however felt no sparks fizzing as she had between her and Draco.  She looked up and into a smiling face.  The owner of the face offered a hand and said  "Hi, I'm Zack."

"Uh...Hi.  I'm Hermione," Hermione stuttered, wondering why she felt so self-conscious.  She raked a hand through her hair.  An uncomfortable silence ensued.  Hermione coughed.

"So, must have been pretty interesting, the thing you were reading," he said finally.

"Yes," Hermione responded, "It's about the Orb of Macrinus."

"Oh, I see."

Hermione sighed.  She had to get a date to the ball.  She had to rely on her girlish charms, which she really hated doing.  She wanted to knock Draco for six.

"I don't suppose you'd like to go to the Freshers' Ball with me, would you?"  seeing his surprised expression, she hastily added "Not that you'd want to, of course, I'll understand if you don't, or if you've already got a date...."  Hermione trailed off, noticing the amused expression on Zack's face.

"Sure, I would love to go with you," he replied, with an easy smile on his face.  

Hermione smiled back, and allowed herself a brief flutter of her eyelashes towards Zack.

******

                After the incident with Hermione, Draco had followed Hermione to the library with every intention of apologising to her, even though _"Malfoys never apologise" in his Father's words.  He had planned on disguising his apology in an argument, but when he arrived at the library, his feelings of goodwill vanished as he saw Hermione talking to the Campus' resident man-whore, Zackary de Tritus.  He watched as Hermione and Zackary flirted outrageously with each other, culminating in Hermione asking him to the Freshers' Ball.  Draco felt jealousy surge through his veins.  He watched as Zackary made his way out of the library, whistling with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.  Draco thought Hermione had more sense than that.  Draco left the library and encountered Camille wandering along the corridor, looking angry.  _

"Hello, Camille," Draco said, and planted a kiss on both cheeks and her mouth.

"Draco," Camille acknowledged, determined to keep up her angry facade.

"Would you like to come to the Freshers' Ball with me?" Draco drawled, and winked.

This had an immediate effect on Camille, who beamed, the smile uplifting her whole face.  "Sure."  was all she said.  She turned, and drifted away, hips wriggling.

******

                Hermione floated back to her room.  That was the first time she had ever asked a bloke out before.  She set her bag down and opened the door.  It was completely dark inside her room, she had forgotten to open the drapes.  She could make out a figure lying on her bed.  She panicked.  She had no idea what to do.  She crept into her room and shut the door quietly.  She got out her wand and murmured _"Lumos"_.  The wand cast enought light for her to see the shape of Harry on her bed, fast asleep.  She sat down at the foot of the bed and smiled fondly.  Harry woke up.

"Harry!  How did you get in here?" Hermione asked.

"Simple charm.  Dementors tried to get me, so I had to come somewhere."  Harry responded, squinting and rubbing his eyes.

Hermione felt a rush of affection for her old school friend.  She launched herself at Harry, enveloping him in a bear-like hug.  Harry hugged back fiercely.  Tears pricked at Hermione's eyes.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked anxiously.  "You look awfully thin."

"Yes, yes, I'm all right," Harry said distractedly.  "Have you got any food?"

Hermione looked doubtful.  She brightened.  "Yes, there are some chocolate frogs and pumpkin pasties I keep in my trunk in case I get hungry during the night.  Harry, what happened?  Did you really steal the Orb of Macrinus?  If so, why?"

Harry unwrapped a chocolate frog and popped it in his mouth.  "I've been on the run from the Ministry for days now, since when I escaped from my holding cell.  No, I didn't steal it.  I was working late and fell asleep in the office.  I was ambushed in the office, making me look like the perpetrator.  Basically."

Hermione gasped, her mouth an 'O' of astonishment.  Harry continued.

"Hermione," Harry said seriously, "can I hide in your room, at least until this blows over?  I'll be quiet.  You just cannot tell anyone."

"Of course," Hermione said, her face pallid.

"I presume you know Ginny's missing?" Harry added.

"No!  I didn't know that," Hermione faltered, "are you going to look for her?"

"Yes.  Ron is too."

"Do you want me to come?" Hermione asked.

"No, I wouldn't want you to get hurt," Harry said, with a note of tenderness in his otherwise serious voice.

******

                Ginny turned around as the door to her cell clanked open.  The man held up both hands. 

"It's only me," he said reassuringly.

Ginny sighed and turned back around.  The man tapped her on the shoulder.  She hadn't noticed before, he couldn't be that much older than she.  She noticed he held a pair of scissors in his hand.

"What are you going to do with those?" she asked in a tremulous voice.

"Just cut off a lock of your hair," he answered.  He cut off one lock and wrapped a red ribbon around it.  He put this into a pouch and rolled it up inside a scroll of parchment.

"Where are you sending that?" asked Ginny.

"You'll see when the time is right," he answered and deftly cut off another lock  of her hair.  

"What was that for?" asked Ginny, angrily.

"That was for my own keeping," he smiled, patted her head and left the room.  

Ginny turned and faced the small barred window in her cell and rested her chin on her hands.  Tears rolled down her face.  She buried her face in her hands and wept.  


	4. Something Unexpected

_Master Potter,_

_ My heartiest congratulations on escaping the Dementors.  I expect, by now, you will have reached Miss Granger - do not worry, for we will not give you away.  By 'we', I mean, of course, myself, my assistant and Miss Weasley.  Do not tarry, Master Potter, for we will do with Miss Weasley what we must........_

_Until next time._

Harry finished the letter and stooped to pick up the small leather pouch that had fallen out when he had unrolled the parchment.  The owl clicked its beak angrily, but Harry barely heard it.  As if in a dream, he paid the owl a few coins and let it fly out through the window.  Curiously, he opened the pouch, and emptied the contents into his palm.  A lock of silky red hair tied up in a ribbon fell out.  He gasped - for it was Ginny's hair.  The phrase was echoing around his head.  _"Do not tarry, Master Potter, for we will do with Miss Weasley what we must....."_

******

                Abrielle's head whipped around.  Ron took off his deerstalker.  Abrielle paled.

"Ron, eet is you, non?" she asked fearfully.

"Abrielle, what are you doing here?" Ron was truly shocked.

"Please, I implore you, do not tell anyone, you 'ave seen me here.  I come from a very respectable family, zey would be mortified," Abrielle confessed, tears leaking from her eyes.

Ron moved forward and slipped an arm around her shoulders.  "Why are you here, Abrielle? I thought you were wealthy, and desired by many men.  In fact, you could have your pick of the men.  Why pick these ageing men?"

Abrielle gave a derisive snort.  "Desirable? Yes, I'm desirable, if you mean no men will come near me, for fear of....." Abrielle struggled for the right word.

"Rejection?" Ron answered.

"Oui, rejection, exactamente.  Zis is a way of checking I am still wanted with ze men." Abrielle finished.

Ron had never heard something so ludicrous in his life.  "I won't tell anyone, Abrielle," he said, "but would you do something for me?"

Abrielle looked up at him and widened her eyes.  "What is eet?"

"Will you accompany me to the Freshers' Ball next week?" Ron gabbled in a nervous rush, blushing red to the roots of his tawny hair.

"I would be 'appy to go with you, Ron," she said in her throaty French voice.  

******

                Hermione took her ball gown from out of her wardrobe and smiled happily.  She turned to Harry and held it up self-consciously against herself.  It was a beautiful colour, deep red and was crafted from flowing silk.  Spaghetti straps were attached to a fitted bodice.  The dress would cling to every curve, the skirt fanning out behind her as she walked.

Harry gave a low whistle.  "That looks amazing, Hermione."

Hermione blushed prettily, accentuating the freckles on her nose.  She hustled into the bathroom and Harry heard the shower turn on.  He heard her singing quietly and smiled to himself.

******

                Draco waited by the main doors for Camille to turn up.  He sighed impatiently and looked at his watch.  Ten minutes late already!  A tap on his shoulder and a slight cough indicated that Camille was behind him.  He turned slowly and cast a glance lazily at her through slitted eyes.  He widened them.  Camille was wearing a black silk ball gown.  The bodice clung to her every curve, and Draco suspected she had used a holding charm to keep her dress from falling down.  

"Well?" Camille asked, pouting.

"Very....nice," Draco drawled, "let's go in."

He took her arm and they walked down the stone staircase into the Functions Hall.  A band was playing on a stage at the very end of the hall.  On the ceiling, butterflies fluttered, fairies and nymphs cavorted.  The dancefloor was made of what seemed like ice, but with beautiful little enchanted flowers captured in it.  The hall was swathed in deep red and purple drapes and a doorman stood ready to announce to couples entering the hall.  Draco himself was wearing a black dress suit, which contrasted starkly with his silvery blonde hair.  He spotted Hermione over the other side of the hall with  Zackary de Tritus.  She looked beautiful, a white orchid in her her stood out and the deep red dress she wore showed off her lean, lithe body as she whirled around the dance floor, never taking her eyes off of her date for one second.  A smile radiated her features and her eyes twinkled.  Her hair hung in a deep brown curtain, cascading down her back.

"Draco?" Camille sounded bored.  "Get me a drink," she snapped.  Draco sighed and reluctantly made his way to the drinks table.  He scooped out a glassful of punch and gave it to Camille.  She sipped it delicately.  He noticed Camille was no longer in the hall.  He also noticed that Zackary was fetching a drink for when she arrived.  He watched as Zackary brought a small bottle out of his pocket, and, checking no one was watching, emptied the contents directly into Hermione glass of punch.  Draco felt the rage bubble up inside him.  He marched over to Zackary, barely hearing a faint voice behind him saying:

"Draco, what are you doing? You're not going to show me up are you? Draco? Draco!"

"What do you think you're doing, de Tritus?" he asked, lowering his voice to a menacing hiss.

Zackary smiled pleasantly at Draco.  "I'm getting my date a drink, whilst she takes a trip to the ladies' room."

"I saw you spike her drink, de Tritus." Draco said through clenched teeth.

Zackary grew angry.  "I most certainly did not!" he huffed.  "Why are you doing this, Draco?" he said pityingly, "Just because I've got the date you want...." he teased.

"Let's see if you can fight as well as you act," Draco replied threateningly.  Zackary attempted to land a punch on Draco, but Draco caught his fist neatly and laughed.  "You fight like a girl, de Tritus.  Unfortunately I'm a man."  He turned to leave the hall.  Couples all around had turned to stare.  Nobody noticed Hermione come in from the ladies' room.  Zackary leaped on Draco the minute his back turned and punched him around the head repeatedly.  Draco staggered backwards and aimed a punch at Zackary.  Draco's fist and Zackary's nose met together in a sickening crunch.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Hermione screamed and pushed the two apart.  "What is going on here?"

"He spiked your drink so he do what he wanted with you, and treat you like his whore," Draco siad malevolently.

"Is this true, Zack?" Hermione enquired, turning scarlet with anger.

"NO!" he denied emphatically.

"Save it, de Tritus," Draco sneered, or tried to with a cut lip, bloody nose and rapidly swelling eye.

"FUCK YOU ALL!" screamed deTritus, so loud that even the nymphs on the ceiling were momentarily distracted and the band stopped playing.

He launched himself at Draco.  Hermione, thinking quickly yelled _"Expelliarmus!"and pointed her wand at Zackary.  Zackary sailed through the air and crashed into the drinks table.  Glasses, punch bowls and punch rained down on the unsuspecting guests.  Draco stalked from the hall, a furious look on his face.  Hermione hesitated, before following Draco out of the hall._

******

                Hermione anxiously followed the pattering footsteps of Draco out of the main campus building.  She had half expected him to turn into the dorm, but instead, he kept going, heading to the very edge of campus.  She could no longer hear his erratic footsteps and laboured breathing, but could see his shadowy form.  Draco stopped unexpectedly beside the lake.  Hermione softy walked up to him.

"Draco." was all she said.  Draco did not turn around.  She saw him shift from foot to foot agitatedly.  Hermione tapped him on the shoulder.  "Draco." she said again.  Draco flinched and turned around.  Hermione looked into his eyes, almost catching a glimpse another Draco.  "Did he really do it? Zack I mean."

Draco nodded and winced with the pain.  "Yes.  I saw him." he said flatly.

Hermione fumbled with the clasp of her evening bag and produced a tissue.  She offered it silently to Draco, but he didn't take it.  She pushed his hair out of his face and dabbed at it with the tissue.  Draco did not move.

"I saw him take out a bottle and shake whatever was in it into your glass of punch," he said hollowly.

"And I didn't think you cared," Hermione teased, quickly realising by Draco's silence that this was not the time, nor the place.

Draco smiled, but the smile was false, as it did not quite meet his eyes.  Hermione moved her hand to Draco's lip and lightly brushed it with the tissue.  Draco flinched, as if her touch had scalded him.

"Why do you bother, mudblood?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled by the tissue.

Hermione looked up at him slowly and he saw tears in her eyes.  She withdrew her hand quickly and looked down, trying to hide her face.  When she spoke, her voice was quiet and halting.  Draco had to strain to hear it.

"Because I care."

She turned and started across the campus field.  "What? WHAT?" shouted Draco after her.  Then it hit him.  _"Because I care."_

******

                In the safety of Hermione's room, Harry prepared to leave.  He wrapped his cloak around him tightly and gripped his broomstick in his right hand.  With the left he carried a letter.  He left this on Hermione's bed.  He took one last look at his surroundings and pushed open the window.  The cool evening air breezed in.  He stood on the sill and kicked off.

******

                Draco mentally slapped himself.  He set off in pursuit of Hermione.  He broke into a run to catch up with her.  "Hermione!" he called.  "Stop!"  Hermione stopped and did not turn around, just as Draco had done moments earlier.  Draco skidded up to her and gently took hold of her shoulders and turned her round to face him.  Tears streaked her cheeks and she looked up.  One of her straps slid down a slender shoulder.  Draco pushed it up with his thumb and felt she was shivering, even though it was not cold.  "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm sorry."  He took off his cloak and enveloped her in it, an act of tenderness very uncharacteristic of Draco.  Impulsively, he pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his.  Hermione protested weakly, and tried to pull away.  Draco smelt her hair and caressed her back.  He felt true satisfaction when Hermione began to kiss back.  She opened her mouth slightly, inviting Draco to explore.  Draco slipped his tongue in and the kiss began to get more heavy.  Hermione pushed him hard back against the dormitory wall, pressing her body up against his.  Her fingers entwined in his hair.  Draco shifted his body away slightly, not wanting her to know what she was doing to him, he felt like his mind was going into overload.  He stoked her hair and ran his hand down the gossamer thin silk of her bodice.  The kiss became more sensuous.  He stroked her leg distractedly.  It was Hermione who finally broke the kiss, her face flushed, her eyes bright.

"Should we be doing this, Draco?" she asked shyly.

"It feels good to me," Draco said quietly.

He took her hand and they walked into the dormitory.

******

                Ron strolled into the hall where the ball was being held with a smiling Abrielle on his arm and heads turned.  Some looks of envy were projected across the hall to Ron, and some of surprise to Abrielle.  Ron smiled broadly.  "Care to dance?" he asked Abrielle.

"Certainly," said she.  He took her hand and led her into the centre of the seething mass on the dance floor.  What Abrielle had not counted on, of course, was that Ron had two left feet.  Ron whirled Abrielle around, jeopardising the lives of the fellow students.  She threw her head back and laughed.  Ron grinned.  "'Ere, I will show you 'ow to dance," she said, smiling.  "Step back with ze left.  Now to ze side.  Now forward.  Eh bien!" she clapped her hands in delight.  Ron's dancing hadn't improved by a great deal, but it was a start.  Ron blushed and smiled widely.  He felt a tap on his shoulder.  He turned around.

"May I cut in," a man asked, obviously wealthy by the various insignia on his cloak.

"I believe this dance is mine," Ron replied sweetly.

The man pushed Ron roughly.  "Don't you know who I am?" he demanded.

"No, why don't you enlighten me?" Ron replied sarcastically.

Abrielle spoke.  "Ron, 'e is the son of the French Minister of Magic.  I will dance with 'im."

Ron looked at her with imploring eyes.  Abrielle shook her head and mouthed _"I will be back soon" through seductive, pouting lips.  Ron grumpily sat down on a chair and watched them dance; the guy was obviously a much better dancer than he.  He watched as the guy's clammy hands slid down to rest on Abrielle's buttocks.  She was obviously uncomfortable with this arrangment, and looked over to Ron helplessly.  Ron saw the guy try to steer Abrielle out of the door.  He stood up.  He strode over and wrenched the wandering hands off of Abrielle.  "Get your hands off of her," he ordered roughly.  The guy looked incensed._

"Only when you get your dirty hands off of my robes," he said smoothly.  "You're so poor you couldn't even afford my spit!"  He continued trying to hustle Abrielle from the hall.  "Now, if you don't mind, Abrielle and I have a little.....business to attend to."

Ron blocked the doorway.  "I.  Do.  Mind," he hissed slowly, taking care to enunciate each word.

The guy punched him hard and he staggered backwards.  He grabbed his wand and pointed it at him.  "You never told me your name.....but perhaps when I'm done with you, you won't be able to," Ron seethed.  They guy let go of Abrielle and reached for his wand.  _"Stupefy!" Ron yelled.  He grabbed Abrielle's hand and ran before the crowds could pour out of the hall to see the what the commotion was all about.  He and Abrielle ran, laughing down the corridors.  "They may come looking for you later, let's go to my room," he said to Abrielle.  Abrielle nodded, gasping for breath from her exertions.  Ron led her by the hand to his room.  He realised he was still holding her hand and dropped it immediately.  He wrestled his door open.  Abrielle stepped in and looked around, and then directly to his pile of dirty underwear on the floor.  Ron coughed loudly and kicked it under the bed._

******

                As Draco and Hermione entered the dorm, they were oblivious to the shouts of fear emanating from the Functions Hall.  The rest of the campus was being plagued by Dementors, looking for the late-departed Harry Potter.  Muffled shrieks and curses were let forth and people streamed from the building through any possible exit and fled to their dorms.  The Dementors moved relentlessly around the room, looking for any trace of Harry Potter.  It seemed the victim had fled in any case.  They dirfted silently from the building and the shaken students returned to the ball.

******

                Hermione and Draco meandered in silence up to her room.  She juggled her evening bag, Draco's cloak and keys.  She got the door open and barely had time to turn on the light when she felt Draco's mouth upon hers once more.  She kicked the door shut roughly.  They fell onto the bed, locked in an embrace.  A piece of parchment fluttered to the floor, but neither Hermione nor Draco noticed it.  Hermione raked her hands through Draco's fine hair and took off his cloak he had given her to wear.  Draco pushed the straps down of her dress and planted a necklace of butterfly kisses around her collarbone.  He carried on further, intoxicated by the sheer thrill.  He pushed up the skirt of her dress and stroked the inside of her leg softly.  Hermione moaned, ever so softly.  Draco pushed himself against her hard.  Hermione ground against him, wanting to feel more.  A slight thrill passed through her body as Draco moved his hand up her thigh.  Her hands splayed across his back, now moved to his trousers, pulling at the belt buckle with nervous urgency.  He looked at her face, her eyes shining in the moonlight, her hair dark hair spilling out over the pillow.  He searched in her eyes, looking for regret, anger, sadness.  He found none of these.

******

                Abrielle sat on Ron's bed, whilst Ron brought her a bottle of Butterbeer from his trunk.  She noted the small picture of his family, all smiling and waving madly in a frame, almost obscured to view by the piles of course books and piles of papers.  The family looked......happy.  There was no other way to describe it.  They stood in front of a humble, ramshackled old cottage.  Abrielle's heart clenched when she looked at the picture, remembering that she had never experienced this kind of happiness with her family.  Sure, she was rich, she could afford Ron's whole house with all the possessions in it, but she wasn't happy.  She chewed her bottom lip and accepted a bottle of Butterbeer from Ron.  He lay down on his bed and put his hands behind his head.  He smiled up at her.

"Zis is your family, non?" she asked, indicating the photograph.

Ron's cheeks reddened and nodded.  "This woman is my mum, and this man is my dad.  This is Charlie, my eldest brother.  He works with dragons.  This is Percy, he works in the Ministry.  These are my twin brothers Fred and George.  And this....." he struggled to keep his voice from cracking, "this is Ginny, my younger sister."

"And, zees are your friends, ne c'est pas?" she enquired, looking at a battered picture of Ron, Hermione and Harry in their last year at Hogwarts.

"Yes.  Harry and Hermione."

"'Arry?" Abrielle bent closer to examine the photograph.  "'Arry Potter?"

"Yes, the very same," remarked Ron drily.

"'E is a very 'andsome boy now," she said.

Ron could not help feeling they had strayed from the point slightly.  He had brought her to his room, he thought she liked him, but all she seemed to want to talk about was Harry.  Ron felt the old insecurity from Hogwarts, the feeling of being Harry's sidekick, living in his shadow.  He plucked up the courage and tapped Abrielle on the shoulder.  She turned and looked at him expectantly.  He planted a soft kiss on her lips.  She did not resist.  He pulled away and this time it was Abrielle's turn to go red.  

"Ron, what are you doing?" she squealed.

"Sorry," he muttered, bending down and hiding his face.

"If you were attracted to me, you should 'ave just said so," she said, with laughter in her voice.

Ron looked up and stared.  Brown eyes looked straight into green eyes.  He moved forward and kissed her once more.  She wound her arms around his neck and then into his hair.  He felt her heart beat pick up and brushed her hair away from her face.

******

                Hermione's hands strayed down to the waistband of  Draco's trousers and deftly unbuttoned them.  Her fingers found the zip and pulled it down.  She aided Draco to wriggle out of his trousers and tossed them to the floor.  In the moonlight she caught a smile, a real one, on Draco's face.  She reached behind her and unzipped her dress.  Draco pulled this down, over her legs and tossed it somewhere into Hermione's room.  Hermione pulled the blanket over them both, and moving forward, brazenly kissed Draco on the mouth, her tongue insistently probing his mouth, flicking and caressing his tongue.  The anticipation was bittersweet.  She yanked his boxers off and moved her hands over his lean, toned chest.  She felt him against her and they moved together, joined in unity.

******

*tap tap tap*

                Ron heard the sound from the back of his mind, but was surrounded by Abrielle, so chose to ignore it.

*knock knock knock*

                Ron ignored it once more, although Abrielle looked up.  He heard the banging once more and this time it was accompanied by muffled shouts.  He sighed and got up.  Abrielle looked a bit knowingly pissed off.  He opened the curtains and peered out into the swirling fog.  Harry popped up, suddenly into view.  Ron screamed "Argh!", lost his balance and went toppling into Abrielle's lap.  He got up, scratching his head and opened the window.  He stepped back, and did a mock bow, allowing Harry to come in.  Harry looked frantic.  Abrielle was the first to speak.

"'Arry Potter?" she asked, in awe.

Harry ignored her and spoke to Ron.  "Ron, we have to leave.  I have Dementors on my tail.  I got a letter from the person who kidnapped Ginny."  Harry handed Ron the letter in silence.  Ron read it, his face paling.

"They might hurt Ginny!" he cried.

"That's not all," Harry added, his green eyes flashing.  "They sent me a lock of her hair as an incentive.  We have to find her."

Ron looked thoughtful.  "She was last seen in Hogsmeade, I suggest we go there."  He grabbed his broomstick and then hesitated.  "I'm sorry, Abrielle, I have to go."

Abrielle just stared in wonderment.  "'Arry Potter." she repeated, more to herself than anyone else.

"Right," said Ron awkwardly.  "Let yourself out."

He and Harry walked to the window, Ron casting one last glance at Abrielle.  They clambered out the window and pushed off from the window sill.  They flew into the night sky against a backdrop of a multitude of stars.


	5. Something Unexpected

                Draco yawned and stretched.  His hand brushed over the soft curve of Hermione's hip.  Her features were set in a peaceful smile as she slept.  Her hair was fanned out on the pillow and she breathed sofly, lost in her dreams.  The sunlight streamed in through a gap in the curtains, and yet this did not reflect on Draco's mood.  He was perturbed.  The rush of emotions he had felt last night were gone.  He raised a hand to his chin and rubbed his his stubble ruefully.  He opened the window, revelling in the breeze that came into the room.  A fluttering piece of parchment caught his eye.  He stooped and snatched it up, in one smooth movement.  Draco unfolded the letter and began to read.

_Hermione,_

_Thanks for letting me crash here.  It was really nice to see you again, despite the circumstances.  From here I am flying to France, to see Ron.  I know that he will want to help search for Ginny.  I hope to see you soon, Hermione, I didn't realise how much I had missed you!_

_Love, Harry_

Draco snorted in disgust and tossed the letter back onto the floor.  He pulled on his trousers and shirt and picked up his shoes.  He pulled them on and quietly slipped through the door.  He walked down to the Dining Hall and picked up a tray, adding food to it as he went.  He paid for the food and made his way back up to Hermione's room, whispering _"Alohomora"_ and letting himself in.  He shut the door quietly behind him, setting the tray lightly down on the desk.  He had no idea what he should do.  _"Perhaps I should slip out quietly,"_ he thought to himself.  He was just about to leave, when a little sigh indicated Hermione had woken up.

"Good morning, Draco," she said sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

Her hair was no longer a sleek curtain of hair, as he had remembered it from the night before.  It was now bushy brown curls, messily spread about every which way across her pillow.  Her eye makeup was smudged a little, and bare arms, leading to bare shoulders extended out from a blanket.  Hermione sat up, leaning her back against the wall, wrapping the blanket firmly around herself.  The effect was instantaneous to Draco, who was determined to become immune to her seemingly powerful charms.  She sighed again and stretched, yawning.  _"Why did you allow that to happen last night?" his conscience screeched.  __"She's a mudblood! Father would be furious if he heard of this!"   Hermione looked at him curiously.  He realised he had been staring at a rather bare patch of wall unmovingly for a few minutes.  _"What a disgrace to the family name,"_ the voice kept on.  Draco shook his head a few times, as if this would solve the problem.  _

"I said, last night was nice," Hermione almost shouted, her face now only inches from Draco's.

Draco curled his lip into a sneer.  "Well, I hope Potter enjoyed the show!  You wait until the Ministry hears of this!"

Hermione's face drained of all colour within seconds.  "Draco.  You cannot tell anyone.  Please," her gaze was imploring.  Draco held her gaze, willing himself not to melt.  "I think you had better go." Hermione stated with quiet authority.

******

                Harry yawned and stretched.  He had not thought of the fact that taking Ron with him meant Ron would have to also endure these dire standards of living.  He uncurled his legs from underneath him, and the joints cracked loudly, causing Harry to shudder.  He looked into the seemingly endless bleak horizon of Hogsmeade and the afternoon drizzle spattered lightly onto his skin.  He looked around at Ron, who was still fast asleep, curled up in the little alcove where they had slept.  Harry nudged him gently with his foot.  "Ron! Wake up!" he said, with some urgency in his voice.

Ron wriggled out of Harry's reach and mumbled "Leave me alone," in a sleepy voice.

Harry nudged him again, a little harder this time.  "WAKE UP!" he bellowed fiercely and Ron's eyes immediately snapped open.

"No need to yell," he groaned, pressing his palm to his head, "my ears are still ringing!"

"We have to go.  Now." Harry ordered.

"I'm hungry," Ron whined.  "If we go to the Three Broomsticks and you slip in and keep your head down, then no one will know you are there.  What do you say?"

"All right," Harry agreed grudgingly.

They walked down to the Three Broomsticks, with Harry trailing behind at a distance, cautiously surveying the surroundings.  His cloak was wrapped tightly around his body and his hood was drawn up, so his face was completely hidden.  They entered the tavern, with Harry slinking in after Ron and sneaking straight to a table in the corner, obscured by a screen.

"Hello Madame Rosmerta," Ron said, "I would like two Wormwood Cocktails and some cheese sandwiches please.  Oh, and some pumpkin pasties.  And a little of that cake wouldn't go amiss!"

"Hello Ron," Madame Rosmerta exclaimed exuberantly, "here you are."  She handed him two flagons brimming over with amber coloured liquid and a tray filled with food.  Ron walked back to the table, a self-satisfied smile on his face.  "Ron! Wait!" Madame Rosmerta hustled after Ron clutching a rolled up piece of parchment.  "This was left here for you," she explained, slightly out of breath.  Ron thanked her and continued walking to the table.

He dropped the parchment on the table.  "What's that?" Harry asked.

"It was left here for me, apparently," Ron responded, puzzled.  He settled his gawky frame awkwardly onto a stool.  He seized the parchment and unravelled the black velvet ribbon from it.  His face turned pale.  Two small pieces of cloth fell out, but he ignored them.

"What is it? What is it?" demanded Harry impatiently.  Ron handed it to him without a word.  Harry read.

_Masters Potter and Weasley,_

_I see that you have used your intiatives and came here first.  My felicitations.  Miss Weasley is still in our midst, and still well, although perhaps for not much longer.  Enclosed you will find one small piece of cloth.  This was torn from Miss Weasley's cloak yesterday  and is a memento for you, for when she no longer is in existence.  It is sent to you with my regards.  I may be seeing you soon, Potter and Weasley, and sooner than you think._

Whilst Harry had been reading the letter, Ron had stooped to pick up the piece of cloth on the floor.  The moment he had touched it, there was a slight breeze and Harry was surprised to see that Ron had gone and there was nothing left but a piece of cloth in his place.

"A Portkey," he breathed.  Nobody had turned a hair when Ron had disappeared.  He took a deep breath and reached for the relatively harmless looking piece of cloth.

******

                Ginny was awoken by something prodding her side insistently.  She opened her eyes and  gazed blearily at the face in front of her.

"Miss Weasley." the voice acknowledged, very businesslike.  "I have come to take you to see my master at long last."

Ginny recognised it as the voice of her keeper, but less amicable than he had been previously.  He took her arm and pulled her to her feet.  He seemed nervous and his eyes darted around the room nervously.  "Why?" was all she could manage.

"Because it is time, Miss Weasley, because it is time."

She walked beside him, her legs quaking in fear.  She walked down long stone passages, illuminated by burning torches.  The air smelled damp and musty and a rat ran across her path.  He stopped in front of a pair of double doors and turned to face her.  He opened the door and motioned for her to enter.  A cloaked figure was sitting at the back of the hall, intently gazing into what looked like a crystal ball.  As she neared, Ginny could make out the tiny characters of Ron and another cloaked figure sitting in the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade.  She watched as her brother vanished suddenly, and then the other character.  "That's Ron! That's my brother!" she exclaimed.

The guard looked pained "Shhh..." he started to say, but it was too late, and the cloaked figure looked up, the clear picture in the orb fading to a grey swirling mist as he did so.

"Who dared disturb my concentration?" he demanded angrily.

"It was the girl, sir," the guard replied smartly.

"Oh, the girl, eh? Come closer, Miss Weasley, so I may take a closer look," the voice sneered.  Ginny could not help feeling she had heard that voice before somewhere.

Ginny found herself being pushed forwards, towards man who was, supposedly, the brains behind this scheme.  "What is this place?" she asked uncertainly.

"This? This is all and this is nothing.  This is a dream, yet still reality.  Welcome to my world, it's all a bad dream."  Whilst Ginny was still trying to figure this out, he crossed over to a table to her left.  He whipped off the table cloth to reveal a smooth opalescent sphere underneath.  "Behold! The Orb of Macrinus!" he exclaimed with obvious pride in his voice.

Ginny remained completely nonplussed.  "What does it do?" she questioned nervously.

"You have never heard of The Orb of Macrinus, Miss Weasley?" he said irritably.  "The Orb of Macrinus is the legendary Shape-shifting Orb.  There is only one in existence currently.  I have it."

"By, how?" Ginny asked, "you have to break into the Ministry to get it and there are all sorts of powerful spells-"

"That, at least was not a problem." he replied smoothly.

"Who - who are you?" she stammered.  The figure silently pulled down the hood and Ginny gasped.  "Lucius Malfoy!" she blurted out.

******

                Hermione wrapped her arms around her knees and continued to stare vacantly out of the window.  She chided herself for being so stupid.  Her hands flew to her stomach, almost protectively.  She had to do the test.  On unsteady legs, she walked to the bathroom.  She had no one she could tell.  Harry had gone, she couldn't talk to Draco, Alina was jealous of her because of Draco and she could certainly not talk to Zackary.  She rinsed her hands under the tap as she waited.  It seemed to torment her, standing on the side of the sink like that, so she turned away from it and slid down the wall, relishing its coolness.  _"Hermione, you slept with  Malfoy!" _her conscience shrieked. _"How could you be so ridiculously stupid!" _It was ready.  She picked it up and slowly turned it over in her hand.  It was negative! Her legs, unable to carry her anymore, deposited her unceremoniously onto the bathroom floor with a thump.  She checked the test again.  Still negative.  She cheered inwardly and stood up.  It was time to go to her Potions Lecture.  She started to pack her bag, when she heard a tapping at the window.  She let the owl in and it settled haughtily on her newly made bed.  It eyed her disdainfully with its tawny eyes.  It extended a talon and proceeded to rip Hermione's blanket to shreds.  "All right!" she said loudly, and the owl ruffled its feathers and eyed her with contempt.  She fumbled in her purse for some loose change.  She found a few knuts and gave them to the owl.  The owl fluttered out of the window and she shut it firmly.  She tucked the letter into her bag and ran to Potions.

******

                Professor Oriana had just began to lecture her class when Hermione burst in.

"So good of you to join our lecture, Miss Granger," Professor Oriana said, somewhat irritated.

Draco watched with amusement as she stammered out an excuse and, face burning, walked over to their shared desk and sat down.  She set her books down on the table and Professor Oriana resumed her lecture.  Hermione's thoughts, however, were elsewhere.  Draco watched as she stealthily unrolled a piece of parchment under the desk and began to read it.

"Not content on being late to one of my lectures, but now you are not even prepared to give me your full concentration, Miss Granger.  What, may I ask is so compelling that you didn't hear that I asked you a question three times?"  Hermione shoved the letter into her bag and mumbled incoherently.  "Speak up, Miss Granger, I'm quite sure a few of your fellow students didn't catch it."

Hermione took a deep breath, willing herself not to deliver a catty remark in response.  "Nothing," she stated, hiding her face beneath her hair.

"Very well.  As I was saying, class, and Miss Granger, if you would be so good as to give us your attention, over the next few weeks, we will be learning how to prepare medicines and restorative draughts.  In the light of the recent theft of the Orb of Macrinus, we will also be attempting shape-changing potions."

Draco idly cast a glace at Hermione from the corner of his eye.  She was studiously scribbling notes down on parchment about their latest project.  As she looked up, he quickly slid his glance to the other side of the room.

******

                Hermione rushed out of the laboratory, her face on fire.  She ripped her bag open and hurriedly took out the parchment.  She unrolled it once more and had just noticed the large Malfoy family crest at the top of the headed parchment, before a shadow fell across the page.  She turned around and looked straight into Malfoy's slate grey eyes. 

"What are you doing with _my family's headed paper?" Draco sneered and snatched it off of her, with moves like a cat.  Hermione, who had adopted the stance of a small furry creature looking in to the gaping maw of a relatively large and unfriendly creature protested and raised her hand to snatch it back._

"Miss Granger," he read in a taunting voice, "You are the cleverest witch, I shall hope to meet, no doubt.  For shame that you are a Mudblood.  I expect you will be wondering what has become of Masters Potter and Weasley?  Well, they stupidly grasped a portkey which transported them back in time.  Miss Weasley is wasting away, and if you do not want her to die, I suggest strongly that you do not try anything stupid.  And by stupid, I mean,  do not try to save her.  It is already too late.  Yours Luci- What?!"

Hermione seized her chance and grabbed the letter from Draco's hand.  "Your father has Ginny Weasley," she said in a low, menacing voice.

Draco was equally as shocked.  "Why the weasle? Why not you? What did he want with her?" He stopped when he realised what he was saying.

"I have to find them," Hermione said and fled down the corridor.  Draco raced after her and rounded a corner to see her mounting a broom she had presumably found lying around.  He cursed as she took off and soared into the sky.  He ran back to Luciva Hall, and into his room.  He cast around for his old Firebolt and opened the window.  He pushed off and saw the ground hurtling towards him dizzyingly quickly.  He pulled out of the dive and felt a smile of satisfaction spread across his face as the other students milling about on campus looked up at him in amazement.  He pressed his body against the broomstick, willing it to fly faster.  His broomstick was faster than Hermione's and he was able to catch up with her in no time.  She was flying blindly, not really paying much attention as to where she was going.  

"Hermione!" Draco shouted after her, his words mostly lost in the wind.  She looked at him, then nodded and proceeded to touch down, in a forest clearing and Draco followed suit.

******

                Harry and Ron hit the floor one after the other with loud thumps.  "Remind me next time to bring full body armour," Ron grumbled, easing himself up.  He dusted himself off and looked around the room.  Torches, mounted on the walls were burning brightly around the room and Ron could see a four poster bed with the curtains drawn.  He heard light snoring coming from within the closed curtains.  "Oh, _shit," he cursed hoarsely.  "Harry, get up! We have to hide!"  Harry groaned and rolled over.  His forehead was bleeding and his glasses were broken.  Ron grabbed him under the armpits and hauled him through a door into another room.  He flung himself against it, panting.  The torches immediately began to burn brightly in the room.  Ron saw that they had merely reached the bathroom.  They could hear the person in the next room moving about. __"Please don't let them come in here, anywhere but here!" he begged silently.  Harry located his wand from his robes and muttered _"Reparo"_.  His glasses mended themselves and Harry put them back on.  Ron looked cautiously around the bathroom.  There was a bath in the corner, except it was not so much as a bath, but a miniature swimming pool.  The floor was paved in cold grey stone and portraits lined the walls of various predecessors.  Ron heard footsteps pattering over to the door.  He saw the latch begin to lift.  Thinking quickly, he seized Harry and they hid in the bath, pulling the shower curtain around it to hide themselves._

_"Who is it?" _Harry mouthed at Ron.

Ron shrugged worriedly.  Presently the door closed and both Harry and Ron breathed sighs of relief.  Ron leaped out of the bath and slowly opened the door.  The room was vacant, except for a large stuffed barn owl in the corner, regarding him with impassive, glazed over eyes.  He walked around, revelling in the lustrous velvet draped room and feeling insanely jealous.  Harry stumbled into the room after him, blinking in the light.

"Where are we?" he asked thickly, still dazed from hitting his head on the floor.  A voice behind them made them jump.

"Perhaps I can answer that," the voice said imperiously.

Both Harry and Ron spun around and came face to face with Lucius Malfoy's head, projecting from the emerald green flames in the fireplace.

"Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed angrily.

"That's right, Weasley.  My my, you _have grown up since I last saw you," Lucius said smoothly._

"What brings you here, Lucius?" asked Harry warily.

"Only to tell you I have your Virginia here, and that you are in my house, of course."

Ron looked thunderous.  "What the fuck have you done with Ginny?" he swore loudly.

"Wait a minute," Harry interrupted, "what do you mean, we're in YOUR house?"

"Oh well, that portkey has transported you back to nineteenth century England.  And you're at Malfoy Manor.  Executions galore," he laughed evilly.  "Anyway, must dash, evil things to do, people to senselessly torture and brutally murder, that kind of thing.  Ta-ra!"

"Wait! What are you doin with my-" Ron started, but Lucius had gone.

******

                Draco leant against a tree, wheezing and trying to catch his breath.  "Granger," he gasped, clutching his side, "you could have got yourself killed!"  Hermione avoided his eyes and purposefully strode over to a tree trunk and sat down with her back to him.  "Hermione, if it's about the comment I made earlier, I didn't mean it, I -"

"Save it, Malfoy," Hermione snapped.

"But I truly didn't and I know I acted badly this morning and I am sorry for that also, but this does not change anything.  You are still a mudblood and I a pureblood.  We do not mix." Draco gabbled desperately.

"Shut up!" A long pause.  "Why did you follow me, Draco?" she asked directly, and swivelled around.  She fixed him with a stare.  Draco looked away.

"I just did, that's all," he muttered.

"That's not a reason," rebuked Hermione.

"Well, because I couldn't let you go alone, something may have happened and-"

She cocked her head on one side, still looking at him searchingly.  "Something may have happened to me? And you cared about that? You wanted to help me?"

Draco snorted sarcastically.  "As if it matters anymore, we crossed the line last night, Hermione.  We cannot do it again.  Ever."

"Do you really believe that?" Hermione asked simply.

Draco paused for a moment.  "Yes." he declared with finality.

He turned away.  He heard Hermione come up behind him and felt her place a hand on his shoulder.  "I don't believe you," she whispered.  The hand left his shoulder and he heard Hermione walk away again.

"Funny you should say that," he said to himself, "because I don't believe me either."

He turned to face Hermione, but she had gone.  He walked blindly into the woods, and came to a gushing river.  He followed this river upstream and reached a pool which played host to a crashing waterfall and several nymphs, who disappeared as soon as Draco came crashing through the underbrush.  The glade had an ethereal feel about it and Draco felt calmed by the sound of the rushing water.  Gradually the nymphs reappeared and they flitted around the glade, alighting on tiny flowers.  He took off his shoes and paddled in the shallows, enjoying the fact that the only sound he could hear was the sound of the water.  He sat on a mossy log, and eventually, plagued by confusion, he fell into a deep sleep.

******

                She happened across him whilst wandering aimlessly in the dense woodland, looking for somewhere they could sleep for the night.  He looked so peaceful asleep that she left him for a while.  In one hand she carried the broomsticks andin the other, Draco's chain, which she had found lying on the ground.  She sat by him on the log, enjoying the spray from the waterfall and presently, he awoke.

"Lose something?" she asked softly and handed him the chain.  It was quite a spectacular chain, with a silver dragon pendant hanging from it.

"Thanks," he said awkwardly and took it from her.  He struggled to fasten it around his neck.

"Here.  Let me," Hermione offered and took the chain from his unprotesting hands.  Her hands trembled slightly, and her fingers fumbled for the clasp.  She felt her face grow red as she brushed a few strands of Draco's hair out of the way to allow her to see.  He flinched slightly at this unexpected contact.  "There." she stated as she finished the task.

"Thanks." he said again.  The glade was silent for a moment.

"I-" Hermione started.

"You-" Draco said, at exactly the same time.

Hermione smiled.  "You go first," she said and smiled.

Draco took a deep breath.  "You were right.  About not believing me, I mean.  I just coulnd't say it then." he looked expectantly at her. "Your turn."

Hermione suddenly smiled and brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes.  She leaned forward and gently kissed Draco on the mouth, sending butterflies fluttering to his stomach.  He tangled his fingers in her hair, remembering her scent from the night before.

"Ive-" he tried to say, but Hermione playfully covered his mouth with a kiss which left him quite breathless.  "Been-" he tried again, but once more Hermione kissed him.  "So-" he attempted, laughing into her mouth. "Stupid." he finished and allowed a rare true smile to radiate his features.  Just once.


	6. Something Unexpected

                Ron made his way out of the room, with Harry following close behind.  He peeked cautiously into the corridor.  He motioned for Harry to follow him and they crept down the corridor.  Ron froze as he heard a patter of feet down the corridor, and then a beautiful girl, with blonde silvery hair and exquisite red robes rounded the corner.  He stopped and stayed completely still.  _"Maybe she can't see us,"_ he thought to himself wildly.  Her brow furrowed and she walked right up to Ron and pushed him hard.  Ron let out a yell as he toppled over, grappling for handholds as he went.  Unfortunately, the only handhold he could reach happened to be a tapestry.  The girl extended a hand and yanked him up.  

"What are you doing here?" she asked, curiously.

"To tell you the truth, we don't really know either," Harry replied, scratching his head.  "I'm Harry and this is Ron.  We managed to get transported here after touching a portkey."

"I'm Calantha," she replied and smilingly extended a hand.  "This is my house.  I must say, it is very strange your being transported here."

"Do you know anyone who can help us?" Ron asked anxiously, "My sister has been kidnapped."

Calantha looked thoughtful.  "There is a wise old Sage who lives at the furthermost corner of the town.  He may be able to help you-"

"Miss Calantha!" She turned her head sharply at sudden intrusion on their conversation.  She looked to the end of the corridor.  "Quick! In here!" she hissed and pushed them through a doorway.  "I will be back for you presently," she said and closed the door on the two astonished and bewildered boys.

_"Lumos,"_ Harry muttered, and the room was bathed in the soft glow of light radiating from Harry's wand.

They were in what appeared to be the Laundry Room.  The shelves were piled high with sheets, robes and what looked like-

"Pantaloons? You mean, they actually _wore these?" Ron asked, amused._

Harry laughed, and then stopped, there was a very big possibility that they could be found out and with a wave of the wand could be hung, drawn and quartered. 

"Look, Harry, I found a codpiece!" Ron said loudly, amid snorts of laughter.

The door opened.  It was Calantha and she was bearing two voluminous black cloaks.  "It is improper to make so much noise," she scolded, "You could be caught!"  She threw them the cloaks and they put them on.  They followed her out of the room and down an impressive stone staircase to the entrance hall.  She led them through the front doors and onto the lawn.  Harry and Ron looked around in amazement, there appeared to be some kind of Quidditch Tournament and some wizards were dueling fiercely.  She led the way to the gates, where three broomsticks were leaning against the wall.  A guard standing at the gates snapped to attention and they passed through.  Calantha mounted her broom and they flew over the town until she motioned for them to land.

"I often come here, for a little piece and quiet," Calantha confided.  She walked up to a small cottage, set apart from the others and knocked on the door.  No one answered.  She tried again, but still nothing happened.  "I'll bet he's catching forty winks," she said, more to herself.  She walked around to the back of the house.

Harry looked at Ron and shrugged.  There didn't seem to be any imminent danger.  They followed her to the back of the house.  "Beats playing Wizard Chess," said Ron.

******

                She had only woken up because she was cold.  The warmth that Draco had provided throughout the night was no longer there.  Hermione looked around and saw Draco washing his face in the pool, the water running in rivulets down his arms and the smooth skin of his torso.  She turned away, a blush starting in her cheeks.  She heard his feet crushing the tall grass, as he made his way back to her.  He knelt down beside her; Hermione could hear him breathing and feel the warmth of his body next to hers.  She waited and felt a swift brush of his lips on hers.  She smiled and opened her eyes.  She looked up into Draco's face, expecting a smile, but his face was devoid of emotion.  _"I thought by now, after what we have discovered about each other and shared, he would open up to me,"_ she said inwardly.  She stretched and sat up.  Draco had put his shirt back on now and was standing with his back to her.  She walked up to him in silence.

"We are going to go to my house," Draco said, breaking the silence.

Hermione nodded.  "Okay," she said simply.

They walked from the clearing carrying their brooms, Hermione lagging slightly behind Draco.  They took to the sky.

******

                Calantha looked under the stone for the key.  Having located it, she opened the door and invited Harry and Ron to step inside.  They stepped into the cottage, which was dark and smoky.  All the curtains were closed and a cauldron hung smoking over the fire.  Calantha snaked her way between shelves of jars with mysterious contents until she reached a tiny back room.  Here there was a man fast asleep on an open book.  She shook him softy.  

"Albus, there's someone here to see you," she said quietly.  The man yawned and sat up.  He ran his long, thin fingers through his hair and adjusted his spectacles, which were perched on the bridge of his nose.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Ron gasped.  "But how, why...?" He trailed off, dumbfounded by this revelation.

"Harry, Ron! What a delight! What are you doing here?" he asked, puzzled.

"How do you know who we are?" Harry asked.

"I never forget a face," he said.  Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he smiled broadly.  

"Ginny has been kidnapped, and we have found out that Lucius Malfoy engineered a portkey to send us to this time.  We have no idea how to get back and we have to find Ginny before it's too late..." Ron lapsed into silence, having exhausted himself.

Albus scratched his beard thoughtfully.  "What makes you think Lucius is still in the future? Maybe he brought you here to find him."

"But why would he do that? Presumably he would be trying to evade us?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"But you forget," Albus answered, "that he also has Ginny.  I do not believe he will hurt her.  I expect that he is just using her to get to you, Harry."

"How can you be sure, Professor? He deliberately tried to hurt her with Tom Riddle's Diary.  He tried to kill her," Harry said.

"I have a feeling he has different motives this time, Harry."

 He nodded at Calantha wearily and set his head down on his book and within seconds was snoring again.

"Funny.  How did he get all the energy to run a school if he can barely keep his eyes open for ten minutes?" said Ron.

******

                Ginny had been informed that she was allowed out of her cell that morning.  Lucius had decided that she was not a threat to him and his duties and she was allowed to roam the house, except for a few specific rooms.  She had been formulating a plan.  Ginny crept out of her bedroom, and down the hallway in her nightdress.  Her heart was racing and her bare feet pattered lightly on the cold stone.  She made her way cautiously to the ground floor and passed through a door, which led down to the dungeons.  It was here that Lucius kept his work.  She walked down the corridor briskly; it was intensely cold; the sunlight never reached this place.  There, at the end of the corridor were two double doors and they were unlocked.  It was evident that Lucius had not anticipated a night visitor and had neglected to lock the doors.  She passed through them and the torches in the room as one became lit.  She crossed the room to the orb in the middle, the one that had reflected Harry and Ron the day before.  She waved a hand over it and it glimmered.  Ginny waited a little while and soon, a blurry picture of Harry and Ron emerged.  She waved her hand over the orb, as if to clear the static, but nothing happened.  Ginny pressed her palm to the orb, willing it to give her a clear picture.  Suddenly, the picture disappeared the sphere grew red and from it, came forth a piercing sound.  Ginny waved a hand vaguely over it, trying to quell the sound, but it was in vain.   She made a run for it.  She only made it to the door before Lucius and the mysterious guard burst in.  Lucius looked furious, and strode immediately over to the orb.  The room fell silent as he tapped it with his wand and muttered a few words.  He strode back over to Ginny and faced her, a vein pulsing in his forehead.

"Miss Weasley, I take it you are to blame for this incident?" his voice had a dangerous edge to it.  He advanced on her.  Ginny backed away, her eyes wide with fear.

 "I… I-" she stuttered.  She backed into a chair and tripped over.  Lucius advanced and delivered a swift kick to her side.  Ginny screamed in pain.  He slapped her around the face, leaving a red mark on her cheek.  "Stop!" she screamed, tears coursing down her cheeks.  "I'm sorry!"  She lay at Lucius' feet like a broken doll that he had carelessly tossed there.  She was curled up into a little ball.  He bent down so his face was inches from hers and spat at her.

"You disgust me, Weasley, you are worthless.  I hope Potter gets here before I finish you off, it would be such a waste of a pretty face."  He hauled her up by her hair and slapped her around the face once more.  Blood trickled from her nose and from a small cut on her forehead, from where his ring had caught her.  She whimpered, holding one hand up weakly to shield herself from further abuse.  A smile spread over Lucius' lips.  An excellent idea. _"Imperio!" Lucius intoned.  Ginny's eyes immediately glazed over slightly.  Lucius' smile grew wider and he deftly unbuttoned his breeches and left them to slide to the floor._

"Hey, you can't do that-" the guard started, but was fixed with such a glare from Lucius that he lapsed into silence.

"Now, I'm going to expose you for the little slut you really are, Virginia Weasley!" Lucius screeched, his normally immaculate hair now standing up in all directions.  "Now get on your knees and do that which you know so well."

Ginny began to comply, and Lucius was so preoccupied by the result of his maniacal scheme, that he did not notice the guard surreptitiously sneaking over to uncover the Orb of Macrinus.  

******

                Ginny felt the release and her mind clearing.  She gagged and moved away.  

"Take her away, back to her cell," Lucius snarled.

Ginny felt her hand being tugged.  She looked up and into the earnest face of the guard.  She meekly got to her feet, although every muscle in her body screamed in agony.  She took a few tentative steps, wincing slightly, before Lucius delivered a kick to the base of her spine.  She turned around.

"That was for free," he snarled.

******

                Hermione touched down lightly on the manicured front lawn of Malfoy Mansion.  Night was falling rapidly and the air was beginning to get a little chilly.  She followed Draco into the house, trying not to let her mouth drop open in awe.  Draco nonchalantly led her to the kitchen.

"We have to fix our own food," he explained.  "Father fired the house-elves last week."  Hermione nodded, and stood helplessly in the centre of the kitchen whilst Draco busied himself cutting a large loaf up.  He cast a sidelong glance at her.  "Want a drink?"

Hermione nodded.  "What do you have?"

"We have everything.  You can have whatever you want.  Could you get me a Dragon's Scourge on the rocks? The drinks cabinet is over there." He indicated it with a nod of his head.

Hermione crossed the room and opened the cabinet.  She stared at the bewildering array of bottles before her.  Finding a tumbler and the bottle, she splashed some Dragon's Scourge liberally over some ice and set it down.  Not knowing what all of these bottles contained, she settled for the same as Draco.  She picked up the glasses and set one in front of Draco.  She took a sip from her glass and shuddered.  Hermione followed Draco out of the room and up the stairs to a cozy looking room with some comfortable looking armchairs.  She sank gratefully into the nearest armchair.  Draco lit a fire in the grate and pulled a table over so it was between the armchairs.  On this he set a plate of sandwiches and his drink.

"Nobody appears to be here," Draco mused, his mouth full of sandwich.  "Normally my mother is here at least, but even she is not here."

"Mmm," said Hermione vaguely, wondering what else she could say.  She took and sandwich and bit into it.  "These sandwiches are nice," she commented.

"Yes," Draco said.  The room was silent once more.  Draco got up and stoked the embers in the fire.  Suddenly, there was a giant inrush of air and the flames flickered and turned bright green.

"My boy!" the voice of Lucius Malfoy boomed from the flames.

"Quick!" hissed Draco.  "Hide behind the curtains, anywhere!"

Hermione rose quickly from her chair and rushed to the other side of the room, concealing herself behind the curtains.  From her vantage point she saw Lucius' head now appear in the flames.

"Father, what brings you here?" Draco asked brightly.

"I saw you travelling with that Granger girl.  I wanted to remind you that you are not to associate with Mudbloods.  Why must I continue telling you this?" Lucius said.

"Oh...I was trying to come back here, but she followed me.  You know what those Mudbloods are like.  I was going to bring her back here, for your own amusement, but her good sense prevailed and she took off." Draco lied smoothly.

"Good work, my boy."

"Father, is it true you kidnapped Ginny Weasley?"

"I will not lie to you.  Yes it is true.  The whole country is looking for the poor girl and she is right under their noses.  Quite the little fighter, so I have observed.  _Very compliant if you know what I mean."  Lucius gave a lewd wink.  "Now, I must be going.  I have business to attend to."_

The fire returned to its natural colour and Hermione returned from behind the curtains.  "How does he know? How did he see us?" she asked quietly.

"He has an all-seeing orb, which he normally keeps in a locked room downstairs." Draco responded.  He yawned.  "I'm tired," he said.

Hermione nodded in agreement and followed him from the room, stopping once for Draco to throw an extinguishing charm at the fire almost lazily over his shoulder.

******

                Draco felt more than a little awkward about having Hermione in his home.  He was still feeling nervous from his Father's sudden appearance.  He led her in silence to one of the bedrooms.  "Wait there.  I'll bring you a shirt."  He left the room and shortly came back with a black shirt, made for a man.  Hermione looked at it dubiously.  

"Thanks," she said and took it from him.  

Draco wasn't sure what to do when she turned around and pulled her clothes over her head.  He gawked as she pulled the shirt over her head, which barely covered her behind.  She turned around and he quickly averted his gaze.  She looked at him curiously.  "Could I possibly have some sheets and blankets?" she inquired, oblivious of her effect on him.

"Yeah.  Sure.  Would you mind helping me fetch them?" he asked.

She followed him from the room and down to the laundry room.  He stopped to let her pass through into the small gap first.  A wicked thought passed through his mind.

"Hermione, the blankets are on the top shelf, could you get a couple down?" Draco asked innocently, eyes gleaming.

"Yes, of course."  She reached her arms up, and the shirt went with it.  _"Just a few more millimetres"_ Draco's brain pleaded.  _"Please just a few more..."_ He watched, barely daring to breathe, as the shirt rode higher and higher on her thighs.  It was so close.  Then, Hermione's hand yanked it back down again.  _"Damn!" Draco cursed inwardly.  She handed the two blankets to him with a smile.  He collected the sheets and they walked back to her room.  He left the room and continued down the hallway to his room.  He undressed and slipped between the sheets of his bed.  He was frustrated.  There was so much that was left unsaid between them, and the sexual tension was clearly apparent.  He smiled as an idea struck him.  At least he could relieve his tension tonight.  His hand slid lower, the knowledge of what he was about to do bittersweet._

"Could I stay in here, please?" It was Hermione.  Draco yelped and flung his arm back, hitting it on a bedside lamp.  "Only, your resident poltergeist seems to have chosen to haunt the guest-room tonight" She offered a smile.

"Yes... Okay.  I will sleep on the floor," Draco said resignedly and started to swing his legs out of the bed.

"No, it's okay," Hermione said, "we're both adults, I'm sure we can share a bed!"  She offered another tentative smile.

Draco chewed his lip and nodded.  He drew back the blankets and patted the space next to him.  Hermione climbed into the bed.  

******

                She limped back to her cell, supported by her guardian.  Once safely inside, she pressed herself right into the corner and cowered there.  To her surprise, the door did not make its familiar hollow clicking sound when it was closed, and she did not hear the bolt being drawn across.  Instead, the door was wide open, but her guardian had gone.  She stared at the open doorway and soon, her guardian returned bearing bread, water and a bowl with a cloth.  He set these down in front of her.

"Eat," he commanded.

Ginny mechanically placed a piece of dry bread in her mouth.  She chewed it and swallowed.  The guard took the cloth and dabbed it in the liquid in the bowl.  He then proceeded to clean the blood off of her face.  Ginny winced at the unexpected pain.

"What is your name?" Ginny asked him quietly.

"My name is Blake," he replied shortly.

"Blake, why are you here?  I mean, you're not malicious like Lucius.  What's in it for you?" Ginny asked.

"A long time ago, my father and Lucius were best friends. They were both Deatheaters.  My father ran into a lot of trouble and he was forced to leave.  Voldemort and his followers spent some time looking for him, but they never found him.  Except for Lucius, that is.  He knew exactly where to look and found my father very quickly.  My father beseeched him not to relay the information back to Voldemort.  Lucius was one of his trusted followers, so I do not think that Voldemort would have cause to doubt him.  Lucius agreed not to tell Voldemort he had found my father in exchange for me.  I guess it shows how the power of evil came before the power of love this time." he finished and smiled morosely.  "Anyway, Lucius never needed me, not really, until now."

"Oh," Ginny gasped.  "That's terrible. I'm sorry," she said bowing her head slightly.

He lifted her chin with one finger.  He swabbed at the blood with the cloth.  "I have to go now," was all he said.  He stooped and planted a kiss on the top of her head.  "Sleep well."

******

                Hermione was aware of Draco's intentions when he had asked her to fetch the blankets and she had almost obliged.  Titillated by his titillation.  Now here she lay, between the sheets of his bed, and the distance between them seemed miles.  She was acutely aware of his tossing and turning.  She rolled over restlessly, accidentally brushing against Draco.  She was just about to roll away, when an arm casually slung itself around her waist.  Hermione stopped, figuring that Drake had done it by accident in his sleep.  She tried to move gently away, but the arm held her firm and the hand began to stroke her thigh insistently.  She rolled over to face Draco.

"You have been driving me crazy in that shirt," he said and his hand travelled still higher.

Hermione frowned slightly.  He had been so cold with her and now he wanted to make her hot?  A small voice in her head told her that it wasn't right, but she pushed it to one side.  She hooked one leg around Draco's waist and pulled him on top of her.  In the faint moonlight, she saw him a raise one eyebrow in surprise.  As he bent his head to kiss her, his hair fell forward and she brushed it out of the way.  She met the kiss with passion and he responded with desire.  She felt herself drowning in his embrace.  He started to undo her buttons, fumbling slightly.  Hermione helped him in her anxiousness for her lust to be fulfilled.  She yanked down his shorts and slid her arms around to his back, caressing him.

******

                Calantha led them into the mansion and into a small pantry.  "You must act as serving boys at the banquet, there is no other way I can hide you when all of the guests arrive." she said worriedly.

"The banquet starts soon, I must make haste to my room to prepare."

After her departure Ron said disgustedly, "Great, we get sent back to the past and all we get to do is be kitchen skivvies! Charming!"

A trumpet fanfare caused Ron to stop ranting and leap up into the air in fright.  "I guess that's our cue," Harry sighed.  

They entered the kitchen and grabbed a couple of silver trays each and made their way out to the banquet hall.  The hall was packed with many red-faced fat men and their dainty young brides.  Ron noticed Calantha sitting to the left of the head of the table.  She gave him a curt nod.  Ron started at one side of the table and began to serve some suspicious looking stew from a serving pot on his tray.  He reached the end of the table and was about to serve Calantha when a particularly repulsive and obese man stood up.

"Gentlemen! I give you...the freak!" he boomed and indicated Ron.  The men at the table roared with laughter.  Harry saw Ron's knuckles whiten around the tray.  "Perhaps it is fortunate he does not work in the garden, gentlemen, for if he did, I fear he would be mistaken for a carrot!"  The men hooted and stamped their feet.

"Shut up!" Ron shouted, unable to control himself anymore.

The man looked at Ron like he was something he had found on the bottom of his shoe.  "You dare order me, servant boy?" he spat at Ron.

Ron stared back defiantly, but said nothing.  The man suddenly threw one of his gloves down on the floor.  He looked at Ron expectantly and there was an abrupt hush in conversation.  Ron set his tray down and picked up the glove from the floor.  A collective gasp went up from the rest of the guests.  Harry, who had moved closer to Ron, was also shocked.

"Ron, you idiot!" he hissed, "Picking up someone's glove means that you have to duel them!"

Ron turned white.  The man smiled sadistically.

"So it is agreed.  Tomorrow on the Quidditch Field, we will have a gentlemanly duel.  You may want to ask your companion to bring a sack, as he may need it to carry you back here."


	7. Something Unexpected

                The weak morning sunlight filtered through the gaps in the drapes into the room and Hermione yawned sleepily, her bare leg brushing against Draco's.  She stretched luxuriously and tried to think when she had slept in a bed this comfortable before.  Never was the simple answer, she decided and smiled in the knowledge of what had happened the previous night.  She looked down at Draco's sleeping face; his expression was that of utmost serenity and the tendrils of hair framed his face.  His lips slightly parted, he breathed softly, and Hermione could only now appreciate how beautiful - 

"HERMIONE WOULD YOU STOP BLOODY STARING AT ME! I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!"

Hermione sighed and turned over onto her side, facing away from Draco._  "This is better than being ignored,"_ she comforted herself, remembering last time.  A warm hand snaked over her hip and rested there.  It pulled her closer and she sighed again and wriggled back to where she was.  She turned her head and looked straight into Draco's face, not expecting it to be there and gave an involuntary squeal of surprise.  "Good morning," Hermione whispered, not wanting to break the comfortable silence.  "Did you sleep well?"

Draco grunted a reply and raised his face for a kiss.  Hermione playfully swatted him away.  "Hey... Don't I even get a good morning kiss after my exceptional performance last night?"

Hermione snorted.  "Exceptional? You barely lasted five minutes! Neville Longbottom was better than you!"

"Five minutes?! That is so over-exaggerated, Hermione!" Draco, who was suddenly awake, looked over at her, and arranged his features in what he hoped was a suitably angry expression.

Hermione laughed.  "Only joking."  She noted that Draco's shoulders sagged with relief.  "It was six.  Six minutes.  And you might want to think about brushing your teeth before I even come near you."

Draco pouted, an expression, which only succeeded in making him look ridiculous.  "Wait a minute..." he said slowly, "Neville?! Neville Longbottom?!"

******

                Ron woke up that morning with a sense of dread in the pit of his stomach.  Wizards' Duel.  Today.  He was crap at magic.  He sighed and turned over, gasping in slight alarm when he saw Harry sleeping soundly next to him.  Harry, almost naked and in the same bed.  He cast the thought aside, uncomfortably and pulled on his trousers.  He scratched irritably at an insect bite on his arm, presumably from the lumpy, straw-filled mattress that he had had to make do with in the Servants' Quarters.  Today was the day when his sense of self-loathing reached new heights.  He reached for his wand.  He turned it over in his hands thoughtfully, thinking of spells he could perform against his rival that afternoon.  There was the classic _"Expelliarmus!"_ but Ron knew he would need something much more sophisticated if he wanted to make his mark.  He thought of all the other spells he knew and sighed miserably.  None of them would be a great deal of use.  He thought back to the Dueling Club he had attended in his second year at Hogwarts.  _"Rictusempra" and _"Tarantallegra"_ came to mind, be he couldn't remember for the life of him what they were for.  Spells weren't his field, anyway._

"Thought you'd get in some early practice for your duel?" Harry's voice sounded unexpectedly behind him.  It was evident that Harry was still exceedingly annoyed with him for being so indescribably dumb and picking up that glove.

Ron grunted.  The door creaked open and a pair of eyes peeked in.  This caused two things to happen almost instantaneously: Harry realised he was half-naked and attempted to clothe himself in the space of two seconds and Ron's hand which was holding the wand flinched violently, causing it to emit sparks which made an attractive burn mark on the door.  Calantha stepped through the doorway, completely unheeding of this.  "Good morning, I trust it finds you well," she greeted them.

"Yeah, right," Ron scoffed.

Calantha fixed him with a confused gaze.  "Yeah, er, very well, thanks, Calantha," Harry hastily replied, trying to disguise the silence.

"I assume I will see you both at the duel?" she inquired, looking to Harry.

"Of course," Harry answered, somewhat uneasily.

"Very well," said Calantha, "I must retire to my chambers now."  She turned to leave, but then paused and turned to face Ron.  "You may want to get some smarter robes.  Yours will simply not do," she added, contemptuously.  "I bid you good-day, gentlemen."  She swept from the room and all that could be heard were her feet, echoing down the passage.

"My robes will simply not do, my arse," Ron muttered angrily to himself.

"I'm sure she didn't mean it unkindly," Harry placated, causing him to sound as camp as a row of tents and Ron to wonder if Harry was actually gay or not.  Harry pulled on a sock.  "I mean, she is a Malfoy, after all."

******

                Ginny hadn't wanted to wake up.  It was in her cocoon of sleep that she felt safest.  The places she went in her dreams were not haunted by Lucius Malfoy.  This morning was no different from the others.  She awoke, aching and cold, to find a small platter of the usual indescribable slop.  She raised a quivering hand holding a spoon to her mouth and surveyed what was on it.  No matter how long she stared at it, she could not bring herself to eat it.  Her stomach turned over at the thought.  Finally, she set the spoon down and took up her habitual position, miserably, on the floor.  She wished she could get out of here.  She had paid so dearly for her pains to contact Harry and Ron.  The door opened slowly and Blake entered the cell.  He walked stiffly, and there was a cut over one of his eyes.  She regarded him mournfully.  "What happened to you?" she inquired.

He sat beside her on the floor.  "Lucius." he managed.

"What did he do?" Ginny asked, for she could not help feeling it was her fault.

"Punched me, kicked me, no more than what I'm used to," he said and gave a futile attempt at a laugh.  

"I'm sorry he did that to you because of what you did for me," she whispered to him, tears pooling in her eyes.

He looked up and smiled weakly.  "Don't get upset.  It's okay," he responded, trying to reassure her.

"My, my, what a cozy little meeting I seem to have happened on here."  The clipped tones of Lucius sounded from the doorway.  "Blake, get back to your duties, we have much to do.  I will see to Miss Weasley."

Blake inclined his head slightly in what could only be described as a resigned nod and left the room, murmuring "Yes, Lucius," as he left.

"Now that we are all alone, Miss Weasley, is there anything you would like to say to me about the events of yesterday?"

Ginny shook her head mutely.

"Are you sure?  If I didn't know any better, I would say you were trying to contact your brother and Potter through my Orb." Lucius continued, advancing on Ginny with moves calculating and weaving.  "But then, I am sure poor, sweet Ginny Weasley, surely would not want to antagonise me in such a way."  He gripped her wrist and caressed it momentarily.  His eyes never wavered from her face.  Lucius moved closer towards her, backing her into a corner.  "Did I mean poor, sweet Virginia? Perhaps brazen harlot would be more adequate."  Ginny was uncomfortably aware of a hand sliding up her thigh.  "Slutty Ginny Weasley."  The hand began to push up her skirt.  "I must say, that little mouth of yours is quite talented."  His voice had become quieter now and his breathing slightly ragged.  His face was inches from hers and Ginny could feel his hot breath on her throat.  She flinched as his hand pushed her skirt down to the floor, but still did not move; she was beyond terror.  "Lovely pair of legs you have there," Lucius crooned softly, and swooped suddenly, pressing a harsh kiss to her neck.  His unshaven chin rubbed against her neck, leaving a slight red rash where his lips had been.  Still she did not make a sound, did not move; she was determined not to let him get to her this way.  "Why does our little Ginny remain so silent?" he lamented, using one hand to loosen his breeches.  They fell to the floor with a soft sound, closely followed by the clang of a belt buckle.  "There's nothing you can do, Ginny, you may as well play my game."  He could see her lower lip trembling and her eyes filling with tears.  Yet, still she remained silent.  "Why don't we strike a deal?" he asked whilst an arm snaked around her waist and pulled her tiny, heaving frame to his.  "You will tell me what you saw and I won't hurt you now.  How about it, hmm?"  Ginny stared straight ahead, past Lucius and to the far wall.  "Very well, Ginny, as you wish."  In one smooth movement, he had her on the floor, pinning her petite frame to the floor with both of his arms, making him look positively giant-sized compared to Ginny.  He pulled out his wand.  "_Stupefy!"_ he said calmly and immediately, Ginny's eyes glazed over.  "Once I'm done with you, Weasley, you won't be that innocent girl you make out to be."  He lowered himself down onto her body.  "Shame really, such a waste of a potentially beautiful girl," he mused, more to himself than the inert Ginny.  Nevertheless, desire and sordidness spurred him on.  He pushed himself into her, feeling like she was one of his whores and any moment now she would glance at a clock and demand an extortionate fee for an hour's light enjoyment.  It was wrong, it was sinful, it was degrading, it was…it was sheer, white-hot pleasure slicing through his body.  He pushed in and out, harder and faster, getting caught up in the moment.  His hair came loose from its normally immaculate ponytail.  Sweat poured down his face and a steady thrumming began in the pit of his stomach.  This intensified and he was brought to a crashing climax, clenching her arms with white knuckles.  He lay atop of her body, his energy consumed by his exertions.  With effort, he pulled himself out of her and a few drops of blood trickled onto the stone floor.  "Well, well, Ginny, it seems I have broken you at last," he noted with satisfaction.  He failed to notice a tear slip down her cheek.

******

                Ron marched onto the Quidditch Pitch, grasping his wand firmly.  A few people jeered as he walked on, his expression grim.  A small crowd was gathering around a small magical ring, designed to keep the crowd out and the competitors in.  He pushed his way through the crowds, Harry ambling after him.  He crossed over the line and stood in the ring, waiting impatiently.  He glanced back at Harry who mouthed something at him.  It looked like "Good luck-," but Ron couldn't be sure.  It didn't matter.  He was going to lose anyway.  He adjusted his robes and fixed his gaze on his opponent.  Ron looked to Harry again, who shouted something, but it was lost in the jeers and catcalls of the rabble.  

"Good afternoon," the man nodded curtly to Ron.

Ron smiled disarmingly at the man, that is; he bared his teeth.  They bowed, never taking their eyes off each other.  Ron's stomach churned violently.  The two men straightened and at once the duel began.

"Impedimenta!" Ron yelled and brandished his wand at his opponent.  His opponent immediately began to slow down, it looked as if his movements were through tar. 

_"Incendio!"_ the other wizard shouted, his face red with anger, raising his arm slowly.

The end of Ron's robes caught fire.  "SHIIIIT!" he yelled.  Thinking quickly, he ripped them off and stamped out the flames.  The crowd roared with approval, it seemed he had little or no support.  "_Densaugio!"_

Howls of laughter could be heard from the seething mass outside the ring.  Ron looked up and noted with satisfaction that the old git's face was rapidly becoming very disfigured by the enlargement of his teeth.  He felt his shoulders start to shake with laughter.  He could not hold back the mirth, and it burst out of his mouth in snorts and whimpers.  That was, until he heard the words:

"Serpensortia!" 

Ron looked up to see a snake slithering towards him.  A tiny voice in his head said _Now, where have we seen this before?_  Ron shrugged it away.  _Now all we need is a fool like Lockhart to pop up and yell…_

_"Expelliarmus!"_

Ron looked around confused.  He was _sure_ he hadn't been thinking out loud.  If he had, well, he would have to bear the merciless teasing from Harry.  His thoughts collected, he realised he hadn't spoken at all.  It had been that git he was supposed to be dueling.  He looked around and down to his wand hand.  No wand.  No prizes for guessing who had his wand now.  The tiny voice in his head interrupted his thoughts once more.  _Who's up shit creek and forgot their paddle this time?_  His teeth still repulsively and comically large, the opponent advanced on Ron.  _"Locomotor Mortis!"  _he shouted and Ron felt his legs lock together.  _Great, he thought, __not only do I get to lose a duel in front of everyone, I get to lose it to an incompetent, illiterate bastard!  The man now had both Ron's and his own wand wedged firmly under Ron's chin.  So this was it.  Ron felt quite humiliated.  He looked despairingly around, but could not see Harry anywhere.  __Some friend, a bitchy little voice at the back of his mind quipped.  The obese man's red, ugly face was right in Ron's face now and Ron could feel his warm breath on his cheek.  It smelled fetid, and Ron felt his stomach prepare to purge whatever he had eaten that morning.  Ron closed his eyes and waited for death's sweet kiss to embrace him…_

_"Finite Incantatem!"_  

Ron opened his eyes in surprise.  The pressure on his legs was freed and his opponent no longer had grotesquely outlandish teeth.  The snake had disappeared.  The man was still standing over him, but the look of malice was no longer in his eyes, just a look of immense amusement and pity.  He held his hand out for Ron to grasp, so he could help him up.  Ron spat bitterly.  If he was going to lose, he would do it in style, whomever had talked about being a gracious loser had been talking a lot of crap, certainly.  There was a collective gasp from the audience.  Ron began to wish he hadn't been so hasty.  It was then that he realised that the gasp was not aimed at him.  The Dark Mark had been conjured and cast a shadow over the Quidditch Pitch.  Then, a weird thing happened: people started to laugh and chatter once more.  With the Dark Mark still apparent as an incongruous image in the midday sky, it seemed odd behaviour to him.  It was then that he realised that it was the Malfoy family he was dealing with.  _Trust my luck to get beaten by a bloody Death Eater, he thought gloomily.  Seizing his chance, he kicked the pompous, corpulent man in the shins and made for the hills.  Or the gates, at least.  The shouts of indignation behind him signified that the crowd was giving chase.  He risked a look behind him and his eyes nearly boggled.  Almost all of the spectators from the duel were chasing him!  Eyes still on what was behind him, rather than what was in front of him, he crashed headlong into an iron pillar.  The so-called iron pillar picked him up and held him at arm's length.  It turned out to be a guard.  __Damn, he cursed mentally.  A clout to the head halted his thoughts and he went limp in the guard's arms._

******

                Whilst Harry had been engrossed in watching his friend be beaten in a duel by a fat, pompous and not to mention _sweaty_ Lord Frederic Parkinson, Calantha had been plotting.  Unbeknownst to Ron, Harry had actually been watching all the way through the duel, but had not stayed for the chase, as Calantha had dragged him away.  Harry, ever none the wiser, had followed and was completely unaware of the fact that his best friend had been thrown into a jail cell, in the dungeons of the Manor.  It was now, Harry speculated, that he had no idea as to where he was, or where he was going.  Calantha tugged at his arm impatiently as he stopped to admire the paintings and various tapestries.

"Where are we-" Harry began, but Calantha silenced him with a finger to her lips.

"We are going to see the dragons," she whispered and began to quicken her pace.

Harry frowned.  "I really should get back to Ron," he stated clearly, and Calantha berated him with a fierce glare. 

"We must be quiet!" she admonished.

Another thing, which didn't quite make sense: if they were going to see dragons, then why were they _inside the house?  Harry couldn't help feeling that he was falling hook, line and sinker into some kind of trap.  Calantha's footsteps halted outside an indistinct looking door.  She opened it, eyes twinkling merrily.  _She's hiding something,_ was Harry's immediate thought.  She carefully shut the door after him and led him up a spiral staircase.  At the top was an ornately furnished room, with rich red and gold drapes.  Most prominently, in the middle was a large four-poster bed.  Calantha looked at him with a gleeful expression, obviously very pleased with herself, for reasons unfathomable._

"Err…Calantha? Where are the dragons?" Harry asked, starting to feel a little worried.

She merely smiled and said "Tonight I can promise you, you will fly, but without use of dragons _or wings"_

Harry began to edge back towards the doorway.  "Right…" he said, walking backwards, feeling his way back towards the stairs.

"Come now, Harry, don't you want to know what making love with the past feels like?" Her eyes narrowed seductively.

Harry blinked.  "Excuse me?"

Calantha moved closer to him, and Harry, anxious to keep the distance from her, ventured still closer to the stairs.  "I've had my eye on you, master Potter, I know you want me," she trailed a hand up his chest.

Harry tensed.  _Great, first I get put in Azkaban for a crime I didn't commit, then Ginny goes missing and I get dumped in the past and now I'm being jumped by a randy girl from the past,_ he thought, annoyed.  He edged backwards, heels precariously balancing over the top of the first step.  It would be a long fall to the door if he misjudged the distance to descend onto the next stair now.  "Err…," he said vaguely, stalling for time.  He stepped onto thin air, as he had suspected, misjudging the distance.  _Damn these uneven steps! he cursed mentally.  His left foot landed safely on the next step, or so he thought, until his right foot failed to follow.  Calantha grabbed his hand and Harry involuntarily yelled out.  She yanked him firmly upright, pressing a finger to his lips, her eyes seeming to grow wider.  She half-dragged him to the centre of the room.  She licked her lips in a salacious manner and let her robes slide to the ground, revealing a dress underneath.  Harry made a strangled sound.  She brought her hangs to his throat and loosened his robes.  Finding the belt on his trousers, she paused for a minute to direct a lust-filled glance at the perplexed Harry.  It was in the process of unzipping his jeans, that Harry discovered they were not quite as alone as he had first thought._

"What is this, pray tell?" said the voice, sounding quite angry.

Calantha dropped his belt guiltily, which she had been untangling from Harry's jeans.  Without warning, Harry's jeans made a slow descent to the floor.  He tried to catch them , but it was to no avail and he fell over at the unknown speaker's feet.  "It's not what it looks like…" Calantha began tremulously.

The man held a hand up.  "Silence, Calantha!  Who are you?" he asked, on closer inspection of Harry lying recumbent at his feet.

Harry looked up indignantly.  "What do you mean, who am I? Who are you more like!" he retorted.

The man glowered at him.  "I am Gregory, of the noble Parkinsons and this is my fiancée, Calantha, whom I have just caught in a romp with you.  Would you care to explain this sordid debauchery?"  In one fluid movement, he had a jewel-encrusted dagger to Harry's throat.

A familiar voice sounded from behind them.  "Unhand my servant, Gregory!"  Harry didn't know if he had ever been so pleased to hear a voice.  "What is the meaning of this, Calantha?" he turned to his daughter.  Harry looked at her hopefully.  "Oh, father," she sobbed, "how glad I am that you came.  Gregory and I were just talking, father, about your imminent birthday, when this lecherous scum stumbled in.  He tried to force intercourse on me father, it was awful,"

Harry could not believe it.  _The little lying son – daughter of a bitch!_

"Is this true, Gregory?" Lord Malfoy demanded.

Gregory nodded vigorously.  "Aye, it is true, my lord.  I was trying to defend Miss Calantha from harm."

Harry just lay there, dumbstruck.  _She's tried to cheat on you and you defend her!_ The voice in his head screeched to Gregory.  He found himself being hauled upright.  

"I never knew that servants of mine would be so disrespectful," Lord Malfoy spat, "To the dungeons!"

_Oh, shit!_ Thought Harry morosely.

******

                Lucius watched the proceedings with interest, and increasing worry.  They were drawing too close, too soon.  Something would have to be done.  He twirled his wand in his fingers thoughtfully.  The Fidelius Charm.  _Perfect,_ he thought to himself.  He could see Blake was no longer willing to be his servant, but a Wizard's Debt was a Wizard's Debt.  Ginny was certainly becoming more…amenable to his little power-trips.  Especially since he was able to use the Imperius curse on her.  He chuckled darkly to himself.  He motioned Blake forwards.  "Blake?"

"Yes, Lucius?" his voice sounded weary.

"I'm casting a Fidelius Charm, I trust you will tell Ginny," Lucius said, malice in his voice.

"Yes, Lucius."  The response was resigned.

He turned and watched Blake leave the room, his shoulders hunched from his latest beating.  He turned to his All-Seeing Orb, and adjusted the picture with a tap of his wand.  He regarded the new image of Ginny, who was lying asleep on the floor, the food still untouched.  She looked so delectable.  He unconsciously licked his lips.  He saw her start and wake up.  Blake entered the cell.  He noticed how, almost immediately, Blake had slung a protective arm around her, and the way she melted into his body.  Blake was talking to her in hushed tones.

"And he's putting a Fidelius charm on the house, so you can't be found, at least not yet," Blake finished.  Ginny gave a small whimper.  He handed her a piece of bread.  "Eat this," he commanded, but gently.

_So THAT'S how she has not lapsed into unconsciousness,_ Lucius thought,_ the little swine has been sneaking her food!_  He stood up abruptly.  Something had to be done.

******

                Hermione was in Draco's private bathroom.  Alone.  It seemed Draco was too "busy" trying to devise a way of getting back to the past to even have a little fun.  And if busy meant striding up and down the room, pretentiously smoking a pipe, then she must have gone wrong somewhere at Hogwarts: she had been the epitome of busy.  She padded damp-haired and bare-footed around the spacious bathroom, taking in how…_expensive_ everything looked.  But it wasn't expensive in a nice way.  Everything had its place and everything was utilitarian and meticulously tidy.  Hermione didn't like it.

"Hermione? What are you doing in there?" 

"I was taking a bath," Hermione groused, annoyed at the sudden intrusion.

"I need to use the bathroom," Draco whined from the other side of the door.

"Can't you go and use one of the other five you have in this manor?" Hermione yelled back.

"I can't be bothered," Draco whined again.

Sighing, Hermione crossed to the door and pulled it open.  Draco toppled in and Hermione only just managed to catch him.  He looked up at her and she could see he only wanted one thing and she was quite happy to comply.  Draco picked her up, unraveling her towel from her body as he went.

"You're very sure of yourself," Hermione breathed as he got to work on her neck with tiny nips

"Yeah," he grunted into her neck, making her stomach vibrate, "but girls always want me anyway."

He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist.  She caught his lips in a passionate kiss as he backed her up against the wall, knocking bottles of potions and lotions off a nearby shelf.  Hermione, temporarily distracted, looked to what had fallen.  Draco began to loosen his trousers, still holding Hermione upright.

"Wait a second," Hermione spluttered with laughter.  "It takes PEROXIDE to get your hair this blonde?!"


	8. Something Unexpected

Ron awoke. His head hurt. He glanced around his cell warily and gasped in surprise when he saw Harry regarding him from a corner, through half-lidded eyes. He slowly sat himself upright, massaging at his temples with the tips of his fingers.   
  
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, breaking the silence.  
  
"What do you mean, what am I doing here? I was here first. What are you doing here?" Ron retorted, his dark mood deepening.  
  
"Ron, this is no time to get all pompous on me," Harry responded, his gaze hardening.  
  
"Pompous? Who's pompous? I was here first!" Ron yelled and turned away slightly.  
  
"Anyone would think you would have been glad to see your best friend," Harry riposted to Ron's back.  
  
"Glad? GLAD?! You didn't even stick around to watch my duel yesterday! A little moral support might have been nice! And while you were at it, you might have been able to stop me getting thrown in a nineteenth century jail cell! And does the fact that I got hit on the head really hard by a guard and was beaten in the duel mean nothing to you? Some friend you are, Harry Potter. At Hogwarts it was always 'Harry Potter, wonderful, Harry fucking Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived and that red-haired person who hangs around with him from time-to-time. You know, what's his name - Don Beasley?' Do you realise how difficult that was, being a celebrity's best friend? Do you know that people had given up caring by the time you had won the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup for the seventh year in a row? I am fed-up of playing second fiddle, Harry. With you I was nothing, a non-entity, a sidekick. Girls didn't want to be with me, but would gladly have slept with me if it meant they could have spent five minutes alone in a room with you." Ron finished his rant and took a few deep breaths. There was a cold silence in the room once more.  
  
"I am sorry," Harry began, "that this," he pointed to his forehead, "is such a disability to you. I will remember that in future and won't offload my unwanted fame onto you. Sorry that these past seven years have been such a trial for you." He turned to face the wall. Both boys glared at the wall for a few minutes.  
  
"So, why are you here?" Ron asked curiously.  
  
"Ron, I will give you two options: either A; shut the fuck up and never bother talking to me again for as long as you live, or B, my personal favourite; figure out a way to get out of here and then shut the fuck up and never bother talking to me again for as long as you live," Harry answered coldly, still facing the wall.  
  
Ron looked out the window and yawned. It was nighttime. He lay down on his straw mattress. "Night, Harry," he mumbled sleepily, appearing not to have heard.  
  
"Piss off, Ron," came the reply.  
  
******  
Draco spluttered and turned red. "No, it's not!" he protested, his voice rising several octaves, "it's cleaning stuff, for the bathroom," he finished lamely.   
  
Hermione snorted and looked at him with an amused gaze. His blush deepened along his cheekbones and he pushed his hair agitatedly out of his eyes. He set her back down on the floor. "Hey! That doesn't mean you get to put me down! I'm not done with you yet!" Hermione exclaimed, a little crestfallen.  
  
Draco grunted something and trudged hurriedly from the room. It had sounded like 'see you at dinner,' but Hermione couldn't be sure. She felt a little guilty now. She sighed and picked up the discarded towel from the floor. She wound it around her body and raked a hand through her mass of wet hair. She padded from the bathroom and into her temporary room. Draco had thoughtfully provided her with some clothes to change into. She took her time getting dressed, but she has decided that impeccably dressed though he was, Draco was clearly clueless when it came to women's clothing. She raided the wardrobe and was pleased to discover a trove of forgotten dresses, robes and clothes. She selected one and wriggled into it. Hermione examined herself critically in the mirror.  
  
"Dearie, that dress is just not your colour," the mirror said in soothing tones, "may I suggest a periwinkle blue? Or perhaps a black satin, edged with red lace?"  
  
Hermione flopped onto the bed and took the dress off, admiring the beautiful sewing and intricate pattern. She had to make it up to him, somehow. An idea struck her, and she wriggled into the black satin dress. It was a little on the tight side, however, it did give the illusion of outrageous curves. She smoothed it down with clammy hands nervously. She crossed to the dressing table and raked a brush through her hair, only succeeding in tangling it more. Hermione sighed. "_Stratus_," she said resignedly, and pointed her wand at her hair.  
  
Now almost ready, she crossed to the wardrobe once more and riffled through for some shoes. There were some, but all seemed far too dainty and made her feet look positively ungainly in comparison. Hermione looked at the clock beside the bedside. Twenty minutes until dinner was served. She had just enough time. She pattered down the corridor in bare feet, the chill of the stones creeping through her body. She skidded down the main staircase and turned into the kitchens. Here, she saw House-elves hard at work. Breathlessly, she tapped one on the shoulder, causing it to jump and drop the bowl it had been holding.  
  
"How fast can you make dinner?" she wheezed, clutching at her side.  
  
"We can whip it up in a jiffy, madam, but will you not be dining with Master Malfoy this evening?" the House-elf questioned, looking at her with its bulbous eyes.

"Master Malfoy and I will be dining together, but not in the Dining Hall. I was wondering if you could put me together a picnic basket instead?" she asked, fixing the elf with an ingratiating smile.  
  
"No problem, good lady," the House-elf replied and clapped his hands together. Elves appeared from various places in the kitchen. "This good lady requires a picnic basket," the elf commanded and the elves scattered. Presently, they were back, staggering under the weight of a large wicker picnic basket, which was full to bursting of various delicious looking food items. She took the basket from them and walked from the kitchens.   
  
"_Mobili Baskus_," she said and the basket floated along after her. She climbed the stairs, taking them two at a time excitedly. She padded lightly down the hallway, coming to rest at Draco's door. It was slightly ajar. She was about to push it open, however, when she heard voices coming from inside. It was the impatient voice of Draco and the angry sounding voice of his father. She stood motionless by the door jamb, listening intently.  
  
"Draco, do not lie to me! I know she is still here. The dirty little Mudblood is still in our house!" the angry voice of Lucius yelled from the fireplace.  
  
Draco went silent for a moment and took a deep breath. "Yes, it is true, Father, she is still here," he answered, avoiding eye contact with his father, "but it is not without good reason. I have kept her here so I can bring her to you. Potter and Weasley will be eating out of the palm of your hand just to get her back." He sneered after he said this, jamming his hands into his pockets as he did so.  
  
"Yes, my boy. You are growing up just like your Father. I must be going." Lucius gave a curt wave from the fireplace.  
  
"But wait! Father, where can I find the Portkey?" Draco asked urgently.  
  
Lucius seemed to be rummaging around. He tossed an object carelessly through the flames. It was a brooch with a lion on it. That lion was all too familiar…  
  
"Goodbye, son," Lucius' head disappeared from the fireplace. Draco sank onto the bed, holding his head in his hands.  
  
The Gryffindor Lion! Hermione thought to herself suddenly, I've only seen it before because that's the Gryffindor Lion! And I only know ONE person with that brooch… She gasped aloud. "Ginny!"  
  
Draco's head snapped around and his eyes locked with hers, which were still peering at him through the gap. Hermione shook her head, tears running down her face. She ran.  
  
******  
Draco was up off of the bed in an instant. How much had she heard? What must she think of him now? Didn't she realise it was all a ruse? He ran to the door and wrenched it open, catching sight of the retreating back of Hermione far down the passage. Funnily enough, the picnic basket was still following her. She skidded down the main staircase and into the kitchens. Draco ran after her, his shirt-tails flapping.  
  
"HERMIONE!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "HERMIONE! STOP, PLEASE!"  
  
This seemed to have the reverse effect; she darted a look over her shoulder at him and increased her speed. She dodged around the House-elves in the kitchen and ran through the backdoor into the garden at the side of the house. He ran after her, and saw her running straight towards the fence. She would never get over it in time. He ran, his feet sinking slightly into the lush lawn. He could see her stopping by the fence, unsure of what she could do. Draco willed his legs to run all the faster, his muscles crying out in protest at the strain they were under. He lessened the distance between them, heart pounding. She looked around, eyes wide with fear, face streaked with tears. He ran up to her panting and almost bent double from his exertions.  
  
"You bastard," she hissed, "you disgusting, piece of shit."  
  
Draco looked up at her through his damp locks of hair. Sweat poured down his face. "Whatever you heard, it's not true. I just said that to appease my father," he gasped, clutching at his side.  
  
Hermione regarded him coldly. "You aren't worthy of a minute of my time. I fell in love with you and now you are going to turn me over to your father for him to do as he will to me? If this is what love is, so help me, I'll become an old maid. I want no part of it," she said and turned back to the fence.  
  
Draco's mind slowly chugged away, going through the thought processes. Love. Love was such a strong word. "It wasn't true. I wouldn't let him take you," he said, breathing normally now. He straightened up and laid a hand on one of Hermione's, which was clutching the iron railing.  
  
"Why?" came the stony voice.  
  
"Why what?" Draco asked, confused.  
  
"Why wouldn't you let him take me?" Hermione turned slowly to face him, not letting go of the railing.   
  
Draco realised his hand was still on Hermione's and he removed it quickly. "Because…Because…" he faltered, "Because I like you, Hermione. You just aren't the same as you were at Hogwarts. You're better, you have matured," he finished, looking at her in earnest.  
  
"I'm such a 'likeable' girl, aren't I? Just 'likeable'. Not loveable in the least bit," she muttered, looking down at the grass.  
  
"You'll be loveable one day," Draco said, smiling, "you'll age into it, just like others age into beauty. At most at the moment, I think you are quite tolerable."  
  
Draco grinned and Hermione smiled warily.  
  
"I'll never be beautiful, either," she whined, more to herself.  
  
Draco sighed. "Whilst I don't love you, I do like you a lot, Hermione," he said seriously, "you aren't half bad for a Mud-, Muggle-born."  
  
Hermione smiled and let her hand drop from the iron railing. She tentatively wound her arms around his neck and melted into his body. Draco stood stiffly for a moment before placing his arms awkwardly on her waist. He planted a kiss on her head. She raised her head up so her face was level with his and offered her lips to him, offering her heart as well. Draco hesitated. Offering her heart. Draco felt his arms pull away. He couldn't bring himself to do it. To steal her heart and never give anything back in return. He saw Hermione look up at him, uncomprehending. He looked down. And it was then that he did something for the first time in his life. He walked away.  
  
******  
Lucius stormed down the corridor, clutching his wand with whitened knuckles. He stopped and stood at the door to Ginny's cell, blocking out the light from the burning torches. Blake looked up and his eyes locked with Lucius'. His arm was still around Ginny and he made no attempt to move it.  
  
"Not intruding, am I?" Lucius asked, in a dangerously sweet voice and ran his fingers up his wand in agitated excitement.  
  
Ginny looked around her eyes widening in fear. She shrugged Blake's arm away from her, and scuttled to the corner of the cell.  
  
"Lucius-" Blake started but Lucius held out his wand menacingly. He began to advance on Blake.  
  
"Dear, dear, Blake, what would the Dark Lord think to hear you are disobeying me? Perhaps I should let him know…" He let the sentence trail off. It had the desired effect. Blake looked suitably petrified.  
  
"No! Lucius! You know I'm still hiding from him!" Blake exclaimed, backing away.  
  
Lucius smiled cynically. "Oh! That's right! You are the boy Voldemort's been looking for, for all these years. You are the one who is evading death, ultimately. Your poor father would turn in his grave if he could see you now-"  
  
"Don't you talk to me about my father." Blake's voice became cold. He regarded Lucius furiously.  
  
"Why?" Lucius asked, "it was him who got you into this position in the first place, was it not?" When there was no reply, Lucius advanced still further on Blake until Blake was pressed up against the wall. "I have no need for you any longer, Blake. I am not going to hide you," he hissed, jabbing his wand into Blake's chest.  
  
"No, Lucius! Don't do it! Doing it would only mean you would get caught, too! You wouldn't want to be hauled up for conspiring against the Dark Lord, would you?" Blake yelped.   
  
Lucius paused. His cold grey eyes bored into Blake's blue ones. Blake seemed to relax slightly. "_Obliviate_!" Lucius said lazily.  
  
Blake's face immediately took on an expression reminiscent of that of dreamy ignorance. "What? Why am I here? Can I go now? Who are all you people?"  
  
"Blake," Ginny whimpered softly.  
  
"Yes?" said Blake uncertainly, "here, don't cry!" He handed her a handkerchief.  
  
"Quiet, Ginny. Blake, you must leave. Right now," Lucius said, sounding impatient, "here, let me escort you to the door…"  
  
Blake allowed himself to be led away, still looking very puzzled. The door to Ginny's cell slammed shut.  
  
******  
"_Incendio_!"  
  
"Shut up, Ron! I am trying to sleep!" Harry groused and covered his ears with his hands.  
  
"_Engorgio_!" Ron said, a little louder and swishing his wand around.  
  
"RON! IF YOU DON'T SHUT UP, I SWEAR…" Harry bellowed and sat up. Ron was sitting on the floor cross-legged, aiming his wand at cockroaches on the floor.  
  
"Harry. I am conducting an important experiment. Please shut up," Ron replied, absentmindedly chewing the tip of his wand and sending sparks fizzing from his lips. He pointed his wand at another cockroach. "_Tarantallegra_!" When nothing happened, he sighed and turned to Harry. "We can't get out of here using magic. Notice how none of my spells worked? We can't use Alohomora to get out. We're stuck."  
  
"Ten points to Gryffindor," Harry said sarcastically.  
  
"So what do you want to do about it?" Ron asked.  
  
Harry shrugged. "I don't know," he replied stoutly and rolled back over and proceeded to go back to sleep.  
  
"Look, Harry, if it's about yesterday, then I didn't mean it. It was in the heat of the moment that I said it," Ron said quickly, flushing a deep red colour most unbecoming to him.  
  
"Forget it," said Harry, still facing the wall.  
  
"But I just wanted to-" started Ron, before Harry interrupted.  
  
"I said forget it. I don't care. Most of it is true anyway. But the least you could have done was told me. I couldn't help it anyway. I suppose you can't relate to me in that sense, I mean, you aren't alive because your parents died for you. You don't have a Dark Lord on your tail doggedly, day after day. You haven't had to contend with the likes of Colin Creevey. You have had a relatively normal life and I really envy that. At least you are actually wanted by your family. At least they aren't ashamed of who you are," Harry finished.  
  
Ron scratched his head thoughtfully. There came a timid knock at the door. "Piss off," snapped Ron. The door opened slowly and Calantha peeked in warily.  
  
"I've come to free you. You must take leave now! Make haste before they put you to death!" she said, handing them a long cloak each. "Broomsticks are by the garden wall on the other side of the kitchens. From here, take left down the corridor and then up the stairs. Go right from the stairs until you reach the kitchens. Go through the back door in the kitchens, go to the far wall and take the broomsticks. Then leave."  
  
"You expect us to trust you after what you did?" Harry burst out angrily.  
  
Calantha didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed. "I warn you gentlemen, if you do not leave now, my family will raise the alarm. Please go."  
  
Harry stared at her. "Aren't you even going to apologise?"  
  
"Harry-" said Ron.  
  
"You made out that I tried to seduce you. I wouldn't touch you with a barge pole! And I get put in here!" Harry shouted, going red in the face.  
  
"Harry!" Ron warned.  
  
"I cannot believe this family. With all your 'morals' and 'graces', yet you keep people locked up for no good reason. I should've known better, you being Malfoys and all that-"  
  
"HARRY! SHUT UP AND LET'S GO ALREADY!" Ron yelled.  
  
Calantha regarded Harry coolly. "Your little friend is right. I am giving you the chance to escape. Now go, before I send my guards after you!"  
  
Ron seized Harry's arm and dragged him from the cell, wrapping himself in his cloak as he did so. "Run," Ron muttered and they sped down the corridor, never looking back.  
  
******  
Blake was chivvied out of the gates by a man whom had only identified himself as Lucius. He felt thoroughly confused. At the gates shut behind him, his mind turned back to the sobbing red-haired girl he had seen before he had left. He was certain he had seen her before, yet he did not know her. He sighed and trudged down the muddy path, not knowing where he was going. Presently, he came to a small village, alive with activity, the houses packed together, so there was a feeling of kinship, closeness, and community. The villagers looked at him quizzically in his bizarre somewhat futuristic robes and he stared back, gawping at their unashamed drudgery.  
  
"'Ere, we don't none of your sort round 'ere! Clear off!" shouted one of the villagers in a thick accent.  
  
Blake neatly sidestepped a fresh pile of horse dung and carried on down the street, puzzled by this reception. He stopped suddenly, outside a ramshackle cottage on the village's furthest reaches. If he ventured any farther, he was sure he would become lost. He sighed and leant up against the cottage, rubbing his eyes tiredly.  
  
"…and another thing: next time we get stranded in the nineteenth century, never, under any circumstances try and get off with anyone, despite how gorgeously attractive she is. God, don't you know anything?" an angry voice sounded, somewhere off in the distance.  
  
"Calm down," came a second voice, "you're shouting loud enough for the two of us. And I didn't try to get off with her! She tried to get off with me! I don't throw myself on women like that! And you're hardly one to talk, you got yourself involved with a Wizard's Duel, you stupid pillock!"  
  
"At least I didn't betray my friend and go and get off with some historic tart!" the voice exclaimed. Blake opened his eyes. It seemed to be coming closer.  
  
"Ron, for the last time, I DID NOT SHAG CALANTHA!" the second voice screeched. "Now can we please get on with what we inadvertently came here to do: save Ginny?"  
  
Blake's head jerked up. That name - where had he heard it before? He thought hard to himself. With that strange man. In those dungeons. He straightened up and walked towards the two men who were still arguing. He approached them cautiously.  
  
"…I never thought you would have been such a manwhore, Harry. And was sleeping in the bed next to me HALF-NAKED absolutely necessary? If you were gay, you just could have said, rather than used such a blatant act!"  
  
Blake raised his eyebrows slowly. "Erm…" he tried, but the men named 'Harry' and 'Ron' seemed not to notice.  
  
"GAY?! I am most certainly NOT gay! I can't believe you thought I was gay!" Harry huffed, looking extremely angry.  
  
"Excuse me…" Blake tried again, but to no avail.  
  
"Well, you have to admit it, Harry, you are kind of…well, camp," Ron responded, looking at the floor.  
  
"SHUT UP!" Blake bellowed, losing his temper. Both Harry and Ron stared at him in amazement. "This Ginny you speak of…Does she have red hair?" Blake asked, looking from one to the other.  
  
Ron nodded. "Yes, she has, she's my sister and she's missing." His eyes narrowed. "Why?"  
  
"Then, I think I can help you…" said Blake.


End file.
